


(i've got a feeling) we will never get closer than this

by burntotears



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Near Future, Pack Dynamics, Pre-Slash, Spoilers, Unrequited Love, Wolf Pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-17
Updated: 2012-08-24
Packaged: 2017-11-12 04:31:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burntotears/pseuds/burntotears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nine months after Gerard’s disappearance sees an influx of packs in Beacon Hills, and while Derek is still the Alpha, the threat of the Alpha pack is what drives his pack and the other packs (whether they be human or hunter) to work toward the common goal of keeping the town safe from their clutches.  But will they remain safe from those who are still lurking within their numbers?  And how do you prepare for an enemy that you can't even find?  While Derek works diligently to wrestle his pack into the cohesive unit it needs to be to survive against the threats of the Alpha pack and Gerard, he finds that he is permitting himself to do the thing he said he would never allow after Kate - he’s beginning to trust.  And that trust is developing into a love larger than anything he's ever known. But Stiles, who wants nothing more than to mother the werewolf pack and learn all that he possibly can so that he might help all of the packs, is really not interested in that kind of relationship with Derek...</p><p> </p><p>  <b>-Suspended Indefinitely-</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. off the ground

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for the kmeme prompts [Unrequited Love](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/4407.html?thread=3638327#t3638327) and [Trust Issues](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/4407.html?thread=3687991#t3687991) and is going to be a multi-chapter canonical fic starting nine months after the end of S2. It is going to be heartbreaking and filled to the brim with (pack) feels. There are going to be bonus items fulfilled (as per my wishes) and because I can't really see it ending in tragedy, there will most likely be a written happy ending or at least a "suggestive ending" for you to decide for yourself where you believe things went.
> 
>  
> 
> **Sorry guys, but I think this is officially being abandoned. I have sort of fallen out of love with Sterek and I just don't think I am ever going to get anywhere else with this.**

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles suggests that the pack compete in a Pack Olympics; Derek decides that the idea is actually something worth considering as it could help the dynamics of the pack. Jackson isn't keen on the idea (of course) and puts up a fuss and Stiles provokes him. Derek breaks down and discovers that he actually trusts Stiles.

☋ **_month one_** ☋  
 _ **Scott said:** We found them_  
 _ **Stiles said:** Where?!_  
 _ **Scott said:** Were taking them to dereks. just meet us there_  
 _ **Stiles said:** Are they okay?!_  
 _ **Scott said:** They r alive_

“What the _hell_ , Scott?” Stiles asked out loud, frustrated at his friend for texting something so ridiculously cryptic. That could mean so many damn things, but most of all it sounded like they were probably lucky to _be_ alive and that was not what Stiles had wanted to hear. But he should be happy that they _were_ alive, right? Right.

He threw on a hoodie and bounded down the stairs two at a time, snatching up the keys to his jeep from the kitchen table. “Hey Dad, uh - Scott is feeling pretty down about Allison and he asked me to come over and hang out. Is that cool?” Stiles asked, trying to keep an apologetic look on his face. 

His dad studied him for a minute before nodding. “Sure, son. Tell Scott that it’ll get better - it just takes some time. And let me know if you’ll be out late.”

“Okay, I will.” Stiles headed toward the door, but stopped short and turned back around to face his father. “Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

His dad looked surprised, but only for a moment. His face softened and he smiled. “I love you too, Stiles. Go take care of Scott for us.”

Stiles hopped into his jeep and gunned it for the pack hideout. He hated lying to his dad so much. There were times when he considered telling him, because it was weird having Ms. McCall know but his dad still in the dark, but the difference between him and Scott was that Scott could actually hold his own when he was in all that danger, whereas Stiles was likely to get his ass beat and ripped apart - yet he still kept getting involved. If his dad were to know about it, he was fairly certain he would _not_ be okay with that. He would likely lose his shit and start kicking some werewolf ass for putting Stiles in danger - and he also might get pissed at Scott, too. So, that pretty much meant no telling Dad about it.

He was fairly certain that his speedometer had gone over 80 at some point on his way to the train depot, but at least his dad was at home and he didn’t run across any of the deputies - not to mention it made the trip short and sweet. Considering what he might be driving toward, it was probably for the best. When he entered the pack hideout the first thing he saw was Lydia looking thoroughly distraught in the arms of Jackson.

“Are they-?” he began, not really certain what he was even trying to ask.

Lydia looked at him with wide, sad eyes and just shook her head slowly. Stiles looked at Jackson who sighed at him, like that was going to give him some kind of answer.

But then Stiles heard a raised voice from the other room, screaming loud and angry. “ _Just let me heal them! Let me heal them, Derek! What are you waiting for, dammit?_ ” Stiles’ eyes snapped to the wall and then to Lydia again who had buried her face into Jackson’s chest, sobbing now. That was enough for Stiles - he tore off for the back room at his fastest pace, stopping dead when he almost ran face first into Deaton’s back.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, sidestepping him. The first thing he saw was the cause of the screaming: Isaac was wild-eyed, tears streaming down his face, fighting against the hold that Scott had on his arms as he stared down Derek with murderous intent. Stiles had never seen Isaac look so desperate and angry before in his life. The next thing that Stiles saw was _them_. Boyd and Erica - at least he assumed it was them, since Scott had said so - but from what he was looking at, Stiles couldn’t be so certain. Their bodies were practically unrecognizable. Their torsos ripped almost into ribbons, their faces looked like bloody, pulpy masses, Erica’s hair was matted with blood and pieces of her own scalp, and Boyd was just a giant black mass of internal organs turned out for a sickening peep show.

“ _Oh my God_ ,” he said in a whimper, his legs suddenly giving out beneath him. He would have fallen to the floor if Deaton hadn’t put an arm out to support him.

“Stiles, thank you for coming,” Dr. Deaton addressed him like he had just arrived and hadn’t been staring at the bloody bodies for minutes.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Derek said, staring him down. “You don’t need to see this.”

For once, Stiles wanted to agree with Derek on something. But he wasn’t going to wimp out when his friends needed him, even if they had no idea he was there. He was going to help, even if he had no fucking clue what he could do for-for _that_. He couldn’t stop himself - he leaned over and threw up.

“I _told_ you not to tell him, Scott,” Derek growled.

“He has every right to be here,” Scott snapped back, tightening his hold on Isaac’s arms as the other boy began squirming when Stiles had thrown up.

Stiles wiped his mouth across his sleeve looked up. “Okay. So what are we doing? How are we going to help them? What was Isaac saying about healing them?”

Deaton let go of Stiles’ back, apparently deciding that he no longer needed the support. “Werewolves have some secondary abilities that don’t just benefit themselves - they can help others with them.”

Stiles looked over at Scott, who had never mentioned it to him. Why hadn’t he told him? He looked back at Deaton and then at Derek. “Okay, so what’s the holdup? Let’s heal them and call it a day.”

“It’s not quite that simple, Stiles,” Deaton replied.

“It never is with you people,” Stiles mumbled.

“We aren’t strong enough to heal extensive injuries,” Derek said, looking down at his two pack members almost longingly.

Stiles looked at him and then over at Isaac. “But you-you’re a pack! You make each other stronger, right? And you two,” Stiles said, glancing at Deaton and Scott, “you’re a pack, so you make Scott stronger! So use your pack mentality and you’ll be able to heal these types of injuries, right?”

“Theoretically, yes-” Deaton began, but Stiles cut him off.

“Theoretically nothing! _Do it_ , stop standing around and letting them die! What the fuck is _wrong_ with you?”

“Stiles, that’s not all there is. They did more than just attack them,” Scott said and Isaac crooned a lowly, sad howl at the mention of that.

“ _Oh my God_ , what now?” Stiles couldn’t believe this. It seriously never ended with the supernatural, did it?

“They’ve infused their injuries with Mountain Ash,” Deaton said, like that answered everything.

“What the hell does that mean?” Stiles asked, annoyed at his lack of information.

“It means that their wolf souls are being forced out of their bodies. It’s keeping them from healing on their own and once the wolf is gone they’ll be dead,” Derek replied flatly.

“No!” Stiles said defiantly, like his disagreeing with it was going to change the outcome. “We’re not letting them die!”

“I quite agree,” Deaton said, looking over at Stiles. “That’s why we need you, Stiles.”

Stiles looked taken aback at that. He gaped openly at Deaton. “Me? What can I do?”

“You can help the wolves save them, of course. All you have to do is believe.”

Stiles raised his arms in the air, incredulous disbelief washing over his face at once. “That was to make the Mountain Ash _work!_ How is that supposed to help them _live?_ It’s already _working!_ ” 

“It is all the same principle, Stiles. You were successful in making it work, you can be successful in stopping it.”

“But I didn’t _do_ it! Only the person who-” Stiles began, not believing he could possibly do this for a second.

Deaton spoke over him, but his voice was still as calm as ever. “Anything will work if you have the faith that it will, Stiles. This is the supernatural we are talking about. None of it is actually real, if you remember correctly.”

“I-” he started and then he shut his mouth, glancing over at Isaac’s tear-stained face. He seemed to be pleading desperately for Stiles to fix this, to help his pack mates, to do whatever he possibly could no matter how insane it sounded. And wasn’t that why Stiles had come here? Hadn’t he driven at ridiculous speeds because he thought that maybe - just maybe there might be something that he would need to do to help Erica and Boyd survive? He had gone on instinct, just like he had when he’d been thrown in the basement by Gerard’s hunters and he’d found the two of them tied up - they were important and he had to save them. Isaac needed them, Jackson needed them, Derek needed them, _Stiles_ needed them - everyone needed them alive.

Stiles threw himself to the floor between the two of them and he had no idea what he was doing, but he was going to do whatever the hell came to mind because he _had_ to save them. He _had_ to. He put a hand on each of their arms, one of the few parts of them that was still intact, and he blocked out the rest of the room as best he could.

“Erica, remember when you told me that I make a good Batman? Well I can’t be Batman without my Catwoman around, so it looks like you’re just gonna have to stick around and put up with me some more. You shouldn’t have agreed to the terms if you weren’t willing to suffer your sentence,” Stiles said, looking down at her arm rather than any other part of her that didn’t actually look much like Erica right now.

“And Boyd, what the hell do you think you’re doing? With no Ravenclaw we’re left with just some Slytherins, Hufflepuffs, and Gryffindors and you know that those three houses are completely useless without a Ravenclaw to keep us on track. And I’ve got it on good authority that Erica is totally into you, so unless you bring your huge, black ass back here, you aren’t gonna see much action.” He wasn’t sure if they could hear him, in the comatose state they were in, but it at least calmed him down and allowed him to think about his own role in this.

Stiles looked up through his eyelashes to see Derek staring down at him, breathing deeply through his nostrils like a bull ready to charge at a moment’s notice. They were all waiting on him to do his part so that they could do theirs. He just hoped he was doing it right. His grip on their arms tightened and he bent over, curling into his own knees as he spoke, like he didn’t want anyone but the two of them to hear him (though of course they all could). With his eyes closed, he said, “Look, I believe that this shit works, but I also know that I can make it stop. Because there’s no fucking way I’m letting some random pack of Alphas come into our town and start tearing apart _my_ pack, alright? So you two are going to fight this - I’m going to help you fight this - and then Derek, Isaac, Jackson, and Scott are going to help heal these injuries and make you good as new, and then we _all_ can kick some Alpha ass for ever thinking that they could mess with this pack.” 

Stiles took a deep breath, releasing it out slowly, then he sat up and opened his eyes and looked over at Erica. Nothing was happening. Was something supposed to be happening? Had he done something and just didn’t know it? Had he failed? He looked over at Boyd, but he looked the same. For a desperate moment he glanced up at the rest of them, wondering what they were thinking, but as he looked he saw their eyes go wide and looked back down quickly to see some sort of black smoke rising from both Boyd and Erica’s chests in swirling tornado-like clouds. They both began to cough and gasp for air and Stiles held tightly to their arms, afraid to let go in case he wasn’t supposed to yet as Derek, Isaac, Scott, and Jackson gathered around the two of them and all placed their own hands on different parts of their abdomens and faces. He would have found the entire thing a bit creepy considering they were all touching sliced-up bodies, but they were fixing Erica and Boyd and he couldn’t do anything but smile because _they were going to be okay_.

☊ **_present day_** ☊  
“-but just hear me out, okay?” Stiles was saying to the pack at large, punctuated with animated hand gestures for emphasis.

“Another one of your brilliant ideas?” Isaac asked, already unconvinced before Stiles had even gotten to the conception phase.

“No, and the sarcasm, dude, totally unappreciated and completely unnecessary because this one - this one has legendary written _all_ over it.”

“Alright, what is it, Stiles?” Scott asked, able to sound only slightly certain that it would be a colossal failure of a plan. See, this was why Scott was his best friend and not any of these other foul canines. Scott at least knew how to humor him before shooting him down completely. That’s really all that Stiles could hope for, most of the time.

Stiles looked around at each of them in turn - even Derek over in the corner who was always pretending not to listen to them before the gatherings officially began - “So we should totally hold - wait for it - _a Pack Olympics_.” He waited for an uproar of excitement from the crowd and when he received nothing he egged them on, “Right? I mean, how cool would it be? Werewolf pitted against werewolf to see who is the best at each event? It would be freakin’ awesome!”

“This is even worse than last time," Erica chimed in easily.

"Okay, Erica - no. Just - you are no longer invited to compete. And - go to time out for mentioning last time." Stiles puffed up his chest, looking slightly pained at the mention of the elusive ‘last time.’

"She's got a point..." Boyd ventured, not as resolute sounding as the others in his degrading comment at least.

"Boyd, no! It’s not - this is a way to-” Stiles paused for a moment and then continued speaking in a more formal voice like he was reading from a prompter, “ _promote pack solidarity while also ensuring the individual identities of each singular member within the pack_.” He let out a breath, glad that he hadn’t totally butchered it.

Derek’s head snapped toward Stiles’ face upon hearing his own words being regurgitated from the younger man. Stiles grinned like an idiot at him, assuming that this meant he’d gotten it at least fairly close, if not exact.

“You’re a dumbass,” came the helpful words from Jackson, the first time he’d spoken that night. Oh, don’t we just _love_ having Jackson in the pack? That’s right, we _don’t_. Not at all.

“And you’re an asshole, but you don’t see anyone here reminding you of it every five minutes just in case you’d forgotten. Not that there’s anyway that you could,” Stiles replied and Scott snorted and fist-bumped his friend for said amazing comeback. Stiles’ fist was ready and waiting because really, it was obviously earned.

“I am seriously going to rip out your-” Jackson began, sitting up, but was cut off by Derek.

“Stop,” was all he had to say and that was that. He wiped his hands of that petty little argument and Jackson huffed and sat back down on the arm of the couch, returning his attention back to whatever was entertaining him on his iPhone. Probably porn, Stiles suspected.

“Yeah so anyway, what do you think? Awesome, right?” Stiles asked, like none of that had even occurred.

“How are you and Lydia going to compete against us, Stiles?” Isaac asked and to his credit, he did sound slightly intrigued now.

“Are you doubting our abilities to keep up with a bunch of slobbery canines?” Stiles asked indignantly.

“Yes,” said Boyd, Erica, and Scott at the same time. Isaac nodded along with them and Jackson snorted, which was a form of affirmation that he had actually been listening. Stiles was stunned by that more than anything else.

Still, he played up his disbelief in true Stiles character. “You - all of you - I just - I cannot believe that you -”

“Can’t believe what?” Lydia asked as she entered the pack hideout in the middle of all this.

“Lydia, thank _God!_ You are just - you are not going to believe these guys. They think we can’t -” he sputtered as she took her seat on the cushion next to Jackson.

Derek cut him off though. “It’s time to start, Stiles,” he said stiffly, and apparently Pack Olympics had to wait until after the meeting was over. He wasn’t letting this one go, though, because it was definitely one of his best ideas to date.

☊

While the pack filed out of the hideout at the end of the meeting, Derek’s eyes rested on Stiles who was standing resolute about his Olympics idea, trying to sway each of the pack members with bribes now to get them on his side. Isaac was the only one who seemed even remotely willing to fall for it, and really only to take Stiles for his bribe and then leave him hanging, Derek knew.

Derek shook his head and laughed quietly to himself, something Stiles had apparently noticed as the last one left in the hideout.

“Derek - Derek, no! You’ve got to back me on this, man! It’s a totally great idea and you know it!” He didn’t sound quite as convinced of himself when he was attempting to sell it to Derek, though, probably because of their past and Derek couldn’t really fault him that. 

They didn’t start out on the best of terms, after all. Nine months seemed like a long time for high school kids, but for Derek it was gone in the blink of an eye. And maybe he had his pack together again and maybe right now things were quiet, but he knew better - he would always know better. The Alpha pack was just waiting for the right time to strike - the fact that they hadn’t already was unsettling enough. And Peter was always up to something, there was no way that he was helping out of the kindness of his heart - Derek knew he no longer had one. No one might believe it, but Derek _had_ listened to Deaton and there was a reason Peter was not a member of the pack. And there was still Gerard, who was out there somewhere, doing who knew what, but now he had both the hunters and the wolf pack after him so it was only a matter of time before he resurfaced as whatever thing he had turned into. There were too many people just lying in wait for another chance to fuck things up for everyone in Beacon Hills. Derek had to be ready to deal with that and so did this pack - that’s why he had one. 

_His_ pack. Even now it seemed like a strange thing to say. Stranger still were the two humans that were along for the ride, not chomping at the bit for a chance to kill them all. It was not a concept that Derek was particularly astute at wrapping his head around, even now with Stiles standing in front of him still trying to pitch his inane ideas to him. While Stiles and Lydia weren’t werewolves, they were still considered members of the pack - it was impossible for any of the wolves to see them as anything else. 

“--and you can’t deny that I am right,” Stiles was saying. “It will totally promote pack unity and individuality too.” He grinned crookedly, plopping down on the couch. “It’s a brilliant idea, go ahead and admit it. It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone you did.”

Derek bristled a bit. “It’s dangerous and you know that you and Lydia can’t be a part of it.” The idea was purely asinine in its parts, but underneath it did have the potential to do exactly what Stiles was suggesting and Derek had to submit to that, begrudgingly or not. 

“Oh _come on!_ That is not even - we could totally take you guys!” Stiles groaned, knowing fully well that they could be killed. Lydia would probably last longer than him as she had proven herself to be rather resourceful. Stiles only knew how to run away and attempt to defer to absurd diversion tactics. Derek knew that he was smarter than that, but in a pinch, it didn’t look great for him.

“No, you couldn’t,” Derek replied blandly.

“But you haven’t said no,” Stiles smirked.

“I haven’t said yes either.”

“You think I’m right,” the younger man said with too much confidence in his voice. He leaned into the couch, placing an arm across the back of it.

Derek watched him closely, trying not to shift his eyes too much across Stiles’ body when he moved. “I think you have a point.”

“I could totally handle this Alpha stuff, no problem.” Stiles huffed over his nails, rubbing them across his chest like he was some kind of pro.

“Are you challenging me, Stilinski?” Derek asked, with not a lot of force behind it, but still an underlying growl that Stiles shouldn’t be joking about this - not really.

Stiles gaped at him, face blanching. He shook his head swiftly, all relaxation replaced with tense muscles. “ _What?_ No - no way, dude. I was just - totally a joke, man. No way!” His voice cracked a few times and Derek smirked. He really couldn’t help himself. “That’s not funny! Don’t say shit like that!”

“ _You_ need to be careful about what _you_ say, Stiles. Especially around the pack,” and this time Derek was serious, because the pack couldn’t see Derek back down to something like that. It would upset the balance of power and he didn’t need that. He had enough trouble with authority when it came to Jackson, Boyd and Erica as it was.

“Yeah. Yeah I get that. I wouldn’t do that. It was just - I won’t say that in front of them, Derek.” And Derek knew that he wouldn’t, at least not on purpose, but he had to be certain that Stiles was careful - that he understood these dynamics even if he wasn’t actually intricately tangled within them one hundred percent. “Sorry,” Stiles whispered, but he knew that Derek could hear him.

“It’s alright,” Derek shrugged him off easily, because he had already said what needed to be said and he knew that Stiles understood. He knew that Stiles and Lydia had studied these things with Allison from her family books and what they hadn’t understood (or couldn’t find enough information about), they had asked the others about. Neither of them had ever come to him about anything, though he wasn’t terribly surprised by this. He still had seemed too intimidating to them (he could see them tense and recoil when he put the pack members in their place) and now they didn’t have quite as many questions to be bothered to ask even if they did feel more comfortable around him. Derek couldn’t help but wish that they would come to him though. It was an ingrained instinct to be wanted and needed by his pack and even if they didn’t have those same instincts as the werewolves did, he wanted them to feel like they were real pack. Like the others, they had wormed their way into his space and he couldn’t let them leave even if he wanted to - especially when he had wanted to. 

“So we could like - Lydia and I could officiate then? Allison too?” Stiles said suddenly, pulling Derek out of his head again. He was generally the only one who could succeed at it. 

Derek studied him for a moment, not wanting to give in too easily but already knowing that Stiles had gotten his way on this. “Maybe,” he replied simply.

The young man’s face cracked from a wide grin and he pumped a fist into the air as he was jumping up from the couch. “Yes! That is cool, we can do that.” 

Derek watched Stiles cautiously as he approached him, not entirely sure what he was planning to do. Stiles just cuffed him on the shoulder and smirked. “I said _maybe_ , Stiles.”

“Yeah, man, I hear ya. It’s gonna be so awesome!” he said as he was walking out of the warehouse.

Derek shook his head, sighing. It was definitely not going to be awesome, he could already tell.

☋ **_month two_** ☋  
Derek was shaking his head, putting his foot down at every turn of this ridiculous notion the wolves had in their head. “There’s no damn way,” he said again.

“Derek, that’s bullshit! They’re just as much pack as the rest of us!” Isaac said. He was pacing around the room, always unable to sit still for too long. It was quite possible that Stiles’ ADHD was wearing off on him - that’s just what Derek needed.

“They’re _humans_ ; they aren’t pack!” Derek replied caustically.

“You don’t believe that!” Erica spat back at him, shaking her head fiercely. “And what’s more, Stiles saved our lives!” she said with more bite than any werewolf could possess, gesturing to both herself and Boyd.

“He’s always helped us, even when Scott wasn’t in your pack, Derek,” Boyd added, ever the voice of reason to Erica’s fiery snake tongue.

Derek looked over at Jackson, who was lounging against the arm of the couch, not saying a word. “Jackson? What do you think? You want Stiles to be pack too?”

Jackson scoffed. “ _They_ want Stiles. _I_ want Lydia. We all win. Case closed.”

Derek rolled his eyes at that. “Two humans. You want _two humans_ in the pack. How insane do you think I am?”

“Pretty insane considering you let your psychotic, murderer uncle hang around all the time,” Isaac piped up, not sounding the least bit sorry for having said it. 

He was getting used to hearing their comments about Peter and, in all honesty, it was probably a good thing that they kept saying them. The more that they reminded Derek that Peter wasn’t who he said he was, the more Derek would remember that Peter was using him as a means to an end and would not allow himself to let his guard down. Peter had proven to be useful and Derek was not above using him for his own purposes, but he refused to let Peter into the pack. That’s why Derek never reprimanded them whenever they made mention of Peter, however he wouldn’t tolerate them questioning his motives for keeping him around either.

“Look Derek, they already help us out all the time anyway. They’re here practically every week, they save our asses, they bring us information about the other packs - what the fuck else would they be if not pack?” Erica asked, placing a hand on Boyd’s leg which he covered with his own. “You can’t tell me it’s never been done before, because we already looked it up.”

They probably had Lydia and Stiles go look it up with Allison for them. Damn teenagers. “It’s dangerous. It’s extremely dangerous for them, because once they are in, the Alpha pack is going to target them first - _always_. Are you willing to put them in that kind of danger?” Derek wasn’t.

Boyd was the one who answered, surprisingly enough. “Do you really think that they aren’t already in that danger, Derek? They are with us all the time anyway. They reek like the pack - there is no way that the Alphas don’t know about it. Making it official isn’t going to do anything but give Stiles and Lydia the chance to come to our meetings and allow us to protect them _better_ than we can now. We owe them that.”

Derek crossed his arms, sighing. They had a point, which was not something he was used to conceding to. Boyd was the logical one though and he generally knew a thing or two so Derek was inclined to actually listen when he spoke. With Stiles and Lydia officially in the pack, they could offer them better protection against the Alpha pack as well as Gerard, if he were to return anytime soon - though that wasn’t too likely just yet. And Stiles also had information on practically every pack in Beacon Hills - somehow he had been welcomed into all of the human packs and Deaton’s pack without a second thought, so that kind of ally was obviously the best to have. “Fine,” he said eventually and Isaac had his phone out instantly.

_**Isaac said:** Come to the pack hideout - we’ve got to tell you something._  
 _ **Stiles said:** Uh, okay. When?_  
 _ **Isaac said:** Right now! Hurry up!_  
 _ **Stiles said:** Dude, I am not at your wolfy beck and call._  
 _ **Isaac said:** Stiles, this is important!_  
 _ **Stiles said:** Alright, fine. Gimme a minute._

“This whole being apart of multiple packs thing is kind of getting ridiculous,” Stiles muttered to Scott, who was currently learning some new wolf lesson with Deaton that Stiles was just voyeuristically enjoying for himself. 

“Well, you’re not really part of Derek’s pack. Or the hunter pack. So there’s that?” Scott offered lamely.

“Yeah, except that somehow I still end up helping Derek’s pack _all the damn time_ and Allison and I have our own pack with Lydia and Danny and Allison lets us read all her family books anyway, so doesn’t that make me, like - adjacent hunter pack?”

“I don’t think there is such a thing as adjacent pack members, Stiles,” Deaton said, smiling.

“Well Chris comes here and helps you guys and that makes him part of your pack and I am part of your pack and he is the Alpha of the hunter pack so really, that makes me part of the hunter pack. I mean - it totally does.”

“If that were true, it’d make _me_ part of the hunter pack, and _I’m_ a werewolf, Stiles,” Scott rolled his eyes.

“Chris isn’t exactly hunting you guys anymore, dude.”

“That is a temporary alliance, Stiles. Don’t let that lull you into a false security. The Argents may have changed their minds about how they feel about _certain_ werewolves, but don’t think that there are not still hunters out there who would not think twice about killing Scott _and_ Derek’s pack,” Deaton said.

“Er, right. Well, they want to tell me something, so I guess I am gonna go,” Stiles said, rubbing his head.

“Congratulations, it’s a high honor,” Deaton told him.

“Huh?”

Deaton just shook his head and waved Stiles out of the room. Giving him one more confused look, Stiles headed for the pack hideout, wondering what could be so important that he had to get there right away.

When he walked in, Lydia was there too, looking just as confused as he did. Stiles raised an eyebrow at her but she just shook her head. Apparently she didn’t know what was happening either. Well, that was great - was this some kind of human-eating ritual or something? Because Stiles was totally not into that and he wasn’t going to volunteer for it either, no matter how much he liked these guys - minus Jackson, who was still an ass, unsurprisingly. In fact, Jackson gave him a dirty looking smirk upon his entrance whereas everyone else smiled warmly at him. Asshat.

Stiles went to take the open seat next to Isaac, who was practically vibrating himself off the couch he looked so excited. Stiles glanced at him warily and then turned to everyone else. “If this is some kind of creepy werewolf ritual where you ask if I’m cool with you chewing on my legs or something, the answer is definitely no. You can get your human kibbles ‘n bits elsewhere, I don’t care how tasty I look.”

Erica snorted and Isaac clapped him on the shoulder good-naturedly. “You’re an idiot,” Jackson offered, oh-so lovingly. 

Stiles ignored him and looked over at Derek, who had yet to say a word. “What’s going on? We’re not in trouble, are we? I don’t remember doing anything...” Stiles looked over at Lydia who just rolled her eyes at him, knowing that _she_ was obviously in the clear even if he wasn’t. Thanks for the human solidarity there, Lydia. Apparently this ship was going down with Stiles as the solo captain.

“You’re not in trouble,” Derek said. “We wanted to ask you both something.”

Isaac’s leg was bobbing up and down so rapidly it could probably take off running without him at any second. “Can I tell them?” he squeaked out.

“No, Isaac, it has to be me or the bond doesn’t work,” Derek sighed, touching his forehead like he was getting a headache.

Isaac visibly deflated a little next to Stiles, who now looked thoroughly confused. “Bond? What are you talking about?”

“Lydia,” Derek said, looking over at the young woman with strawberry blonde hair sitting with her hand curled neatly into Jackson’s palm, “Stiles,” he said, looking at Stiles now with his hazel eyes staring straight into Stiles’ own, “we have decided to formally invite you as human members of our pack. Would you like to accept?”

Stiles gaped, still staring at Derek for a long while before turning toward Isaac who was grinning like a fool and Erica who had a suspiciously wicked smile on her face and Boyd, who just looked quietly happy to have him. “Uh, seriously?” he asked stupidly, and looked over at Lydia who was looking at Jackson with a creepy loving look on her face and then she kissed him and Stiles looked away because he didn’t want to see any of that. 

“Yes, _seriously_ ,” Erica mocked him, smirking and then suddenly she was pouncing on him and Isaac was there with her and they were hugging him and Boyd was just laughing because he never did show as much physical affection but Stiles still assumed that Boyd liked him anyhow.

While Stiles was being assaulted he heard Lydia say, “Of course I’ll join you, Jackson,” like he was the only damn member of the pack and that was kind of annoying because he wasn’t even the one who had _asked_. And yeah, okay, maybe Stiles just didn’t like Jackson’s annoying face because he was always sticking it in Lydia’s now and he thought that Lydia deserved something better - something more like _him_ , but whatever, he wasn’t going to pine after her when she was dating an assface again.

“ _Well?_ ” Isaac asked, giving Stiles a noogie like he was freaking twelve years old. “What’s your answer, Stilinski?”

Stiles pushed Isaac off him, laughing. “Uhh...what do you think, dude? Hell yeah!”

☊ **_present day_** ☊  
“Are you seriously going to make us do this, Derek? Why can’t this be put to a vote?” Jackson was practically whining at this point and Stiles was fairly certain that his life was now complete, thanks to that alone. Derek had announced that they would, in fact, be participating in the Pack Olympics and ever since Jackson had done nothing but bitch about it.

“Because this isn’t a democracy, it’s a pack,” came Derek’s reply.

“It wasn’t even your idea though! You take suggestions from us but then you don’t let us have a say? That’s bullshit!”

Jackson was seriously two seconds away from throwing a hissy-fit, Stiles was just waiting for the excuse to pull his phone out and film it for posterity. He grinned over at Scott who also had his phone in his hand, patiently waiting for the shoe to drop.

“It’s how it goes, Jackson. I’m the Alpha, I get the final say. And in case you weren’t paying attention the past fifteen minutes, everyone else is up for it but _you_ , which apparently means you need it most of all.”

“I did _not_ sign up for this kumbaya, feelings-sharing bullshit!” Jackson was hollering now, but there was still no foot-stomping to Stiles’ utter disappointment.

Of course at this point, Stiles couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He had to say something. “Maybe you should have researched a bit more about what you were asking for before you signed on the dotted line, so to speak.” Yeah, he already knew he was going to regret it before it came out of his mouth, but he felt like it was worth it regardless. He could already feel the heat of Derek’s disapproving stare forming before it was on him at full-on boil.

“ _Stiles_ ,” was the accompanying warning that Derek gave to him, but yeah, Stiles already knew he shouldn’t have gone down that road. Jackson always got bent out of shape at anything that even remotely made reference to his time as the kanima, so Stiles was fairly certain that this was going to be a replay of one of those fantastic times.

“No one asked for _your_ fucking input, assface.” He was at least keeping his colorful language in check. That was basically where the control ended, though, and Jackson’s body was already rippling in all sorts of unpleasant manners that Stiles was certain he could do without. Erica threw herself in front of Stiles as his own personal body-shield and Scott was in front of Lydia in one second flat like this was something they had practiced a dozen times before. Unfortunately, they had, in a manner of speaking.

Jackson had never been one for keeping himself in check, so he was already wolfed out by the time the weak little humans were behind their respective werewolf protectors. Erica was baring fangs at Jackson, seemingly daring him to come after Stiles - or at least that's what it looked like to him. Really, he could do with a little less of that, thanks. Jackson didn’t have much of a chance to do anything though, because Derek was up and at him with that whole “I’m the Alpha” bit that Stiles had seen him do plenty of times before (generally without the smart ass smirk now, though) and Jackson was down on the floor, whining like a puppy and about as threatening as one now too with only frosted tips on his head to show for it.

Derek’s eyes were still red when he glanced around at the rest of them and it took him about half a second to pop back into normal human mode, which Stiles pretended didn’t make him want to pee his pants a little; he had a pretty bad feeling about that look. “We’re done for now. Everyone, out. Jackson, you be back here tomorrow.”

Stiles was making his way toward the exit, trying to make himself look as small as possible so he could slip out with the rest of the pack without further incident. “Everyone but _you_ , Stiles,” he heard Derek call from behind him and he knew, he just knew that he had been right about that look. Fuck. Scott barely took the time to spare him a ‘I’m sorry bout’cha’ glance before shuffling out with the rest of the pack - the prick.

“Well you said everyone, jeez,” he mumbled as he made his way back to his impending doom. He kept his eyes on the floor and sat down on the couch, placing his hands on his knees like he was waiting to be served his life sentence, which - let’s face it, he probably was. 

He knew that Derek wasn’t going to speak until the rest of the pack was out of earshot and he had a feeling that the threatening growl that Derek made just then wasn’t intended for Stiles, but for a straggling werewolf who was attempting to stay behind outside and listen to the reaming that Stiles was about to receive. Assholes, every single one of them. He knew an entire pack of werewolves that was not getting Christmas presents from him this year.

“Stiles...” he heard Derek start finally, but then he was no longer talking so Stiles wondered if maybe he wasn’t in as much trouble as he thought and looked up, but Derek wasn’t looking his way. Stiles watched the line of Derek’s back and the way he was opening and clenching his fist and decided that no, Derek was apparently trying to keep himself from going full-out Alpha on him right now. This was definitely _not_ good. He knew that Derek could hear his heart pick up too, which was kind of annoying, but there wasn’t much he could do about it and shit, maybe if he wasn’t so fucking terrifying this wouldn’t be a problem anyway.

“You can’t keep doing this shit, Stiles. We talked about this - I talked to you _and_ Scott about this.” Derek’s voice sounded calm - maybe a little too calm. There was an edge to it though and Stiles knew that he wasn’t going to get off quite as easily with this as he had with other things.

“God, Derek, I know. I know I fucked up, alright? After ten years of always dealing with Jackson’s shit, it’s a little hard to just turn it all around and become his BFF, especially in less than a year.” Stiles already knew that these were not exactly the correct ‘hey, please forgive me for my transgressions’ words, yet he still couldn’t help saying them. Sure, Derek had sat down him and Scott and told them that the beef between them and Jackson had to be settled (and by settled he basically meant buried because really, how the hell would it ever be settled with an assface like Jackson?), but beyond that nothing else had ever really been done about it. Truthfully, Stiles was still a little bitter about it, he was just too much of a chicken to say anything. No, he hadn’t wanted to kill Jackson (no matter how much of a douche he may have been, he hadn’t ever actually threatened their lives in any way before the kanima shit began), but when Jackson became a regular werewolf he was just a part of the pack and everyone had to accept it and deal - no questions asked. Bullshit, one hundred percent.

Derek turned around and faced him now, apparently no longer in jeopardy of ripping out Stiles’ throat for the time being. It wasn’t very reassuring, really. “I never asked you to become his best friend, Stiles. I asked you not to antagonize him. He’s a werewolf, he’s got little self control, and he’s definitely still not ready to deal with what happened to him as the kanima and you can’t bring that up-”

“I didn’t! Not really! No one knew that’s what was going to happen when he was bit! I was talking about him wanting to be a werewolf without even asking questions first! He’s the one that relates every goddamned comment someone makes to him to the kanima!”

“Which you know that he does. So why do you keep trying to egg him on all the time?” Derek asked and now he sounded like he was tired alongside annoyed, touching his forehead like he had a headache from listening to Stiles.

Well, Stiles had a headache from listening to this shit about Jackson. He jumped up off the couch and started pacing around a bit, throwing his hands in the air to punctuate his annoyance. “What the hell, Derek? He eggs me and Scott on _all_ the fucking time! Still! He _still_ cannot get enough of it, even after being in the pack for nine months, he still thinks he’s better than everyone else - better than Scott at being a werewolf, probably even better than _you_ sometimes! He is still such an egotistical prick about everything! And while everyone else has learned to coexist and get along - hell, even become friends - Jackson still sits there on his damn iPhone and acts like he’s the king of the goddamned universe and won’t have shit to do with anyone of us but Lydia! He never even _tries_ half the time, yet we have to walk on eggshells around him so that _he_ doesn’t get his feelings hurt? That’s total bullshit, Derek!” Stiles stopped pacing, looking over at Derek with all the annoyance he could muster. So maybe he should have let some of this out a long time ago, but hell - now was as good of a time as any. Didn’t Derek always say he wanted all the bad blood inside of the pack out in the open? Well, he was certainly getting it from Stiles now.

Derek looked at him pointedly, not saying anything for a while as he assessed Stiles’ rant (which most definitely wasn’t a hissy-fit, okay?). Derek’s voice wasn’t loud, and it didn’t really sound accusing either, when he said, “I told you and Scott to do that because I knew that you were both capable of being the better men about it. Jackson still has a lot of growing up to do, but I had assumed that the two of you - that _you_ \- were able to step up and take one for the team, Stiles, until Jackson gets his shit together.”

Well okay, that was definitely what you called a verbal punch in the gut. Stiles now felt like a damned idiot for saying anything, really, and he probably should have known that Derek had had good reasoning for doing things the way he was doing them, but really - why didn’t he just _say that_ in the first place? ‘ _Apparently because he thought you knew better, Stilinski, only further proving that you are, in fact, a fucking dumbass._ ’ Also a total prick now too. Bravo. “I, uh - I didn’t - shit,” was about all he could come up with, rubbing his shaved head uncomfortably.

“Exactly. You thought that Stiles knew everything, that he had to be in the right because he’s so damned smart. You’re sharp, Stiles, I’ll give you that. And even when you were dragging Scott’s ass out of the fire, you were still able to keep your shit together at school, because you’ve got a good head on your shoulders and I respect that. We need someone like you for the pack, Stiles, and I’m not afraid to admit that. But when it comes to keeping this pack together and knowing enough about werewolves _and_ people, _I_ know what I’m doing. I know how to handle werewolves and while you may know what you’ve read in books and seen for the past year, I’ve lived it my entire life. I’ve dealt with werewolves like Jackson before and I know what needs to be done with them - I can’t do that if you’re always working against me, though.”

Stiles had the shrewdness to look ashamed, at least. “Derek, come on. I’m not working against you. Fuck - I’m sorry, alright? You’re right, I didn’t know what I was talking about and I should have just known that you knew what you were doing, but you don’t ever tell me what you are doing or why you are doing it so it’s hard to just go with things sometimes.” Well, he hadn’t exactly meant to bring that up, so this felt kind of awkward now.

He watched as Derek’s back straightened and his face grew tight. Yeah, probably was not the best thing for him to have said. “I don’t have to consult you when I do things, Stiles. I’m the Alpha of this pack, it’s my decision.”

“Yeah, Derek, I get that. Believe me, we _all_ get that. I’m not trying to overstep here, okay, so please don’t take this like I am. I just - I think that things would go better for everyone if you actually clued us in every once in awhile. Y’know, like you actually trusted us -- which I mean, I know you don’t because ‘you’re Derek Hale and he doesn’t trust anyone’ and all that -- because it’s kind of hard for you to expect us to trust everything you say when you don’t trust us at all. For this whole pack dynamic thing to work well, don’t we all just need to trust each other a bit more?” Stiles asked tentatively, knowing that he was probably shooting himself in the foot by now. While he and Derek had a better relationship than they had before, he still wasn’t certain that he had the right to say things like this, but they were things that needed to be said and no one else in the pack was ever going to have the gall to say it. What else was Stiles good for if not putting himself on the line for the rest of them?

Derek didn’t look like he was going to rip out Stiles’ throat, however, so maybe that was a good sign. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not that easy, Stiles.”

“Isn’t it? I mean, to be honest, most of us are doing a pretty good job of it...except you.”

“You’re supposed to trust each other and you’re supposed to trust me because I’m-”

“-you’re the Alpha. Right. I guess that this sort of ingrained trustworthiness works a lot better for the wolves than it does for us humans. No offense, I’m not saying I don’t trust you, really, just that I find it hard when I’m being _forced_ to rather than just doing it of my own accord. And y’know, not getting anything in return.” Scott had mentioned this to Derek, Stiles knew, and on more than one occasion at that. But that didn’t mean that at any moment Derek wasn’t going to wolf-out and rip out his intestines for even going down this line of thought because it wasn’t like Stiles had any kind of authority here. He just wanted everyone to get along and honestly, Derek was the one that made that the most impossible to do for everyone - discounting Jackson who, let’s face it, no one but Lydia really included at the moment.

Derek shook his head and growled under his breath in what could only be characterized as frustration. “Look, Stiles. You’re seventeen and you haven’t seen the things I’ve seen. You haven’t been jaded like I have so you just need to believe me when I tell you that it is definitely not that simple.”

Stiles tried to think back to whether or not Derek had ever mentioned any of this to him before. He’d talked a little bit about his family, back when Stiles had gotten drunk and waxed poetic to Derek about his mother and how he thought that his father might really blame him for what happened to her. He knew that Derek had talked a little about what had happened with Peter and how he missed his mom and Laura, but still, he hadn’t really spoken about all the things that made Derek the way he was when it came to trusting people. Stiles knew that Kate played a large part in it, that Peter was involved now too and Derek held some resentment toward Scott, even if he had been blackmailed into giving away information about the pack and Derek. He’d picked up the bits and pieces as he spent more time with Derek’s pack (and Peter had definitely tried his best to drop hints to all of them, which always pissed Derek off), but he still didn’t know the story about Kate and he wasn’t sure how the story really began. “Okay, I get that. I know that-that there are things in your past that shape how you feel about trusting other people with yourself. But Derek, how do you expect for the pack to succeed if you don’t ever trust them? You can’t really expect that they will follow you blindly just because you tell them they have to? They still have a human side with emotions that don’t disappear just because they have the ingrained instinct to be loyal to you because you’re their Alpha.”

“That’s not all there is to it, Stiles!” Derek’s voice grew rougher, more urgent, and he sounded annoyed, but Stiles didn’t think that it was really with him. The Alpha jumped off the stool he’d been occupying and started pacing around, looking as though he were ready to rip something apart to quell his frustration. “It’s not just about me and not wanting to trust others with myself. It’s about the rest of you. It’s about _protecting_ you. If I trust you to take care of yourselves and you fail, then that’s on _my_ head. That’s _my_ fault - for not training you right, for not getting there in time, for not understanding that the danger was too great - and there’s nothing I can do to take it back once it’s done. I can’t let that happen, Stiles. I _won’t_ let that happen - not to any one of you. I won’t watch another family burn and be the one who lit the match.

“That’s why you all have to trust me and that’s why I can’t trust any of you,” Derek said, looking toward Stiles now, his face resolute. Stiles searched it for any showing of pain or grief, but there was nothing that Stiles could recognize. Derek was stone. “If I let myself relax into that kind of position, I could fail in doing what I’m meant to do for you.” He looked Stiles full in the face and Stiles felt like he was silently pleading with him to just _understand_ already. He needed Stiles to understand this.

And Stiles did understand, to an extent. He understood that the reason Derek and Scott grated against one another so much was not because of their differences, but their likenesses. Derek wanted to protect everyone, all by himself, and he didn’t want help from anyone else. He didn’t want to put faith in anyone in the chance that they didn’t live up to the expectations he held himself up to, in which case terrible things could result. Terrible things like an entire werewolf and human pack being burned alive thanks to him putting trust in someone. Yeah, Stiles pretty much understood what the issue was here, but it didn’t really make it _right_. And honestly, Stiles hated that he had to be the one to try and pull this from Derek, because it made him feel dirty. He felt like he was asking too much, like he did when he told Derek about Peter offering him the bite - which he had never ended up telling anyone else about. Things with Derek were always weird and tense and Stiles always felt like he was putting too much of himself onto Derek’s shoulders - that he was trusting Derek too much without having cause to really know if it would pan out well. But then that wasn’t the truth because Derek had been there, Derek had saved his ass and the others’ time and time again, so it wasn’t like Derek was a liar. It was just kind of infuriating that Derek could show his devotion, but he couldn’t act on it because he held himself to impossible standards. 

“Yeah, okay. That makes sense, Derek, it really does. And I honestly understand where you are coming from with it now. I mean, if it were my job to be the Alpha and protect everyone, I’m sure I wouldn’t be too nonchalant about it either.”

Derek let his shoulders fall a little, like he was relieved that he had finally gotten through to one of the members of the pack about this. Stiles felt slightly terrible about that reaction considering what he was about to say next.

“But if you truly mean what you say about us becoming a cohesive unit and also our own individuals, but you don’t allow us to fulfill our own potential because you’re too stubborn to relinquish the control of everything for fear of us screwing up, it’s not going to work. They need a chance to fuck up, Derek, and if they don’t get it, they’ll resent you for it. That resent is going to fester and build and eventually they are going to hate you because all you do is bark orders at them and never let them _grow_. And I can honestly say right now that it will never work out with Jackson - you should already be able to tell that it’s not working for him. He needs someone to trust that he can do it himself and once he believes that he can - knows that he’s capable - he’ll be ready to coexist with the rest of us.” And he’d definitely overstepped that time. There was no way that Derek was going to be okay with anything he’d just said and Stiles’ face blanched as he wondered why the hell he had thought it was a good idea to open his mouth in the first place.

Derek didn’t respond at all and Stiles was scared, feeling the beat of his heart pick up inside his chest. He was honest-to-God frightened of what Derek’s reaction was going to be to all of his word vomit and Stiles stood up again, feeling like he needed to _move_ in case this got intense quickly. But Derek didn’t make any moves toward Stiles - in fact, Derek dropped to the floor on his knees and looked cracked and confused and Stiles worried for a wild moment that he’d done even worse than piss Derek off - he’d gone and _broken_ their Alpha somehow. 

Stiles watched as Derek’s shoulders slumped further into the floor and he leaned over; it looked like he was going to pass out face first into the concrete with the way he was staring down at it. “Derek?” he asked tentatively, but Derek didn’t even stir at the sound of his own name. Stiles took a deep breath and prayed that he wasn’t about to get his throat ripped out for this and slid up to Derek, kneeling down on the floor next to him. He placed a cautious hand on each of Derek’s shoulders, hoping to shake him a little into re-existence. “Derek, are you uh - alright?”

For a while, Derek still remained quiet and Stiles worried that maybe he really had passed out, but then he said, in a fractured whisper, “I don’t know - don’t know if I can do it, Stiles. You’re right - right about it all - but I can’t-”

“Fuck, Derek, don’t - I didn’t _want_ to be right.” Stiles felt his hands convulse on Derek’s shoulders, squeezing tighter as he grasped for the right words to reassure him. He never thought he’d find himself in the situation where Derek needed reassuring and yet here they were. “I just wanted you to believe me - to-to trust me.”

Derek’s back rose high underneath Stiles’ hands and then lowered in a shaky, outtake of breath. “I-I _do_. I trust you, Stiles. I’ve been _trying_ to ignore it but you just-”

Stiles couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Yeah, I do that sometimes. Uh, sorry,” he added, both for his laugh and his ability to bugger people into submission. Apparently even Derek wasn’t immune to the annoyance that was Stiles Stilinski.

Derek barked out a laugh himself, but it was twisted and inhuman. He sounded like he was in more pain than he’d ever been in before and all because he felt like he could trust Stiles. Only Derek would be able to take such a revelation as a terrifying blow. “I don’t suppose you have any more advice - like how I’m supposed to deal with you?” Derek asked and he only sounded minutely bitter about it all.

Stiles leaned over to look Derek in the face, sighing dramatically. “Considering how hard you’re taking it, I don’t think anything I tell you is going to help at this point. Why don’t we just take it one day at a time?” It was the worst advice he’d had yet, but Derek wasn’t really great at taking advice as it was, so maybe it was time to desist with the advice-dolling for the time being.

“Yeah, you’re probably right about that,” Derek nodded, still hunched over like he was possibly going to throw up from all this trust-having excitement. Stiles gave his shoulders another squeeze, thinking at this point he wouldn’t put it past Derek to have that kind of reaction.

“I’m not _trying_ to be right, dude! I was just saying that-” he began to babble, worried he was going to cause more harm than good again.

“Stiles, it’s fine. Just - let’s just take it as it comes,” he agreed and finally he sat up, though he didn’t shrug off Stiles’ hands right away.

☋ **_month seven_** ☋  
Stiles looked down at his cell phone which was vibrating itself off the desk. He waited until it reached the edge then put his hand out to catch it before it took a dive to the floor.

He didn’t have to look to know what it was going to say. It had been the same thing for the past couple of weeks and he had already known that Scott wasn’t going to follow through with their plans tonight, even without getting the text an hour before they were meant to meet up.

_**Scott said:** Hey u dont mind if I go out with allison tonite do u? We can hang out tommorrow?_

There were a lot of things that Stiles wanted to say to Scott just then, the top amongst them being: _You know you’re the worst best friend in the world right now, right?_ He didn’t have the heart to be a dick though, just like he didn’t have the heart to bother trying to remind Scott what today actually was and why he was not at all okay with Scott bailing on him for Allison _again_. The sad thing was that he knew Scott and Allison needed the time to work on their relationship - essentially to start over, so Stiles was willing to give up his time with Scott to allow them the time needed to fix things with one another. 

_**Stiles said:** No, man. I’ll see you tomorrow._

It wasn’t like Stiles could blame him for not remembering. It had been how many years now? When they were younger it was more of a video games and pizza type of situation, and the last couple of years all they had ever really done is get together and drink the night away. Stiles would say a few things about it (but never too much) and Scott would always say, “I’m sorry, dude,” and that was the end of talking about it. The rest of the time was spent saying stupid shit, playing dumb drinking games, and other general horseplay as the night wore on. Of course Scott couldn’t really get drunk like he used to, so it would have mostly just been Stiles stumbling around and Scott being good natured enough to pretend like he was still having fun without the intoxication to keep him company. This would be the first year that they didn’t spend together. Stiles couldn’t help but be a little bitter about it.

He quietly snuck out of the back of the house with a bottle of whiskey in hand, making a bee-line for the wooded area outside. He wasted no time knocking back mouth-fulls of amber liquid, screwing up his face as it burned down his throat and into his stomach. Stiles kicked his feet at wayward sticks and shrubs as he blazed a trail through the woods. “So much for pack solidarity,” he snorted with a shake of his head. Sure, some of Derek’s pack probably would have been willing to spend this time with him, but it wouldn’t have been the same. This was always something he’d done with Scott and it just didn’t feel right to do it with anyone else. Of course walking around on his lonesome getting piss drunk wasn’t the smartest idea he’d ever come up with either, but Stiles wasn’t one for thinking before acting.

He managed not to get himself into too much trouble whilst he drained the bottle of its contents, only falling on his ass once the entire time. With no more alcohol to fuel his trek, he took a look around at where he’d ended up and shook his head in annoyance at himself. Of course he had come here without realizing it, feet walking him straight to the _his_ pack even when he told himself he didn’t want to be with them. He sure as hell wasn’t going all the way back to his house like this though, so he made his way inside to see who was around.

“Hellooooo!” Derek heard Stiles call from the entrance to the hideout and there was something off in his voice. Derek sniffed more closely as he made his way from the back and sure enough - yeah, Stiles was totally trashed. “Anybody home?” Stiles hollered through the warehouse room, his voice bouncing off the walls and screeching harshly into Derek’s sensitive ears.

“Stiles, shut up! I’m here,” he said, emerging from the back and taking in the sight that was Stiles, barely holding himself up on two feet at the moment as he swayed forward toward Derek.

“ _Derek_ , hey! What’s up? Is everybody gone? Are you _all alone?_ ” Stiles asked him in a strange sounding voice, stumbling forward on unstable legs. 

Derek moved quickly, holding his arms out to catch Stiles as he staggered into Derek’s chest. “Stiles,” Derek sighed down at him, attempting to stand the younger man up straight again. “What are you doing here?”

Stiles giggled when he looked up at the werewolf and leaned against his chest without even trying to hold himself upright. “I’m drunk, Derek,” he replied simply and dissolved into giggles again, because that was apparently extremely funny to an intoxicated Stiles. 

“Yeah, I can see that,” Derek grunted, dragging Stiles over to the couch so he no longer had to support the younger man. He deposited Stiles onto the middle cushion and watched him sink down into it like a boneless buffoon. “Why’d you come _here_ , Stiles?”

The teenager gurgled a bit on his own spit. He had to force himself to swallow before he could speak properly. Fucking hell, was it seriously Derek’s job to take care of this toddler? “Can’t go home. Don’t want - can’t let Dad see me like this. Scott bailed on me for Allison _again_. He forgot.”

So apparently there was something more to this that Derek wasn’t aware of yet, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he was going to find out by the end of the evening, unless Stiles passed out before he was able to spew it out. “Let me get you some water,” he said, turning to leave but Stiles was on him in a second, arms clinging around his left leg like a vice.

“No! Don’t leave me! I don’t wannabe alone,” Stiles moaned, probably partly from the sudden movements he’d made jostling around his head too much, but also because he was whining like a little girl.

Giving in, Derek slowly unwrapped the arms from around his knee and sat down cautiously next to Stiles, knowing fully well this was going to be an excruciatingly uncomfortable situation from the get-go. Stiles clambered over Derek’s lap the second it was available, wrapping both of his arms around Derek’s waist and leaning his head against the pillow of his own arm with his face pressed into Derek’s stomach as he curled up as small as possible into Derek’s lap, kneeing him in the side a few times in the process. Yeah, definitely an uncomfortable situation, though Derek didn’t have the heart to toss him off. He rested one hand softly on Stile’s knee and the other on the back of his neck.

“What’s the matter, Stiles?” he asked after a few minutes of Stiles digging his nose into Derek’s stomach over and over in some obscene attempt to make it more comfortable for himself.

“Nothing,” the younger man murmured back quiet and unconvincing.

“Stiles, why are you drunk? What’s going on?” he rubbed his thumb unconsciously against the nape of Stiles’ neck, peering down his own stomach to glimpse the younger man’s face pressed into him.

“It’s nothing, it’s just-” he sighed heavily and rubbed his nose against Derek’s stomach again. “-justmymom,” he finished quickly and quietly, apparently too drunk to remember that Derek could hear him just fine.

He raised an eyebrow, thinking. He knew that Stiles’ mom was dead, which meant this probably had to either be her birthday or the anniversary of her death. Those were generally the days people got most upset about a person they’d lost in their lives. Not like Derek would know from experience or anything. There were dozens of birthdays that passed him by unnoticed each year, but there was definitely one day he had trouble dealing with just about everything and everyone else. He moved his hand up the side of Stiles’ neck and held it there like a enveloping blanket, still rubbing his thumb against the softness of his pale skin right behind his ear. “I’m sorry, Stiles.”

The teenager hummed a little against his stomach, curling his neck into Derek’s hand before turning his head sideways a bit so he could see up at Derek’s face. “Thanks,” he replied, a sad smile reaching to his eyes. Derek had never seen Stiles look so unhappy before and it was honestly a bit heartbreaking to see on a face like his, generally always grinning wildly at the world. “Dad always tries to pretend it doesn’t bother him and I try to pretend it doesn’t bother me so we don’t talk about it and walk around each other like ghosts all day and he always waits until I go to bed before he starts drinking and talking to himself about her while he holds their wedding picture and cries...”

Derek felt his hand on Stiles’ knee tighten of its own accord, tugging Stiles a little closer as he spoke about it. He didn’t want to look into those sad brown eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to tear away his gaze. It was possibly the worst he’d ever witnessed from Stiles, who was the type of person to keep his emotions in check fairly well. Now Derek saw water brimming at the edges of his eyes, but he didn’t seem to notice it.

Stiles just let out a long, shallow exhale and gave another one of those unfortunate smiles. “He really hates me.”

“ _What?_ Stiles, no he doesn’t.”

“He does. He really does, he just doesn’t want to say it to my face, but I can see it. I saw it the night he told me he’d lost his job because of me, and every time I showed up on a crime scene, and when he told me he was disappointed in me for all the lying I’d been doing. He hates me because Mom is gone and it was my fault.”

Derek shook his hand, jostling Stiles’ head back and forth a little bit. “It wasn’t your fault, Stiles. She was sick.”

“I couldn’t make her better. I tried so hard, I looked everywhere and asked everyone to help, but no one could do it. I failed and she died and Dad hates that he was stuck with me.”

“Stiles, he does _not_.”

“I remind him of her and he hates it. He hates looking at me and seeing her. He’d rather not have to look at all. He’d rather it had been me and not _her_. So do _I_.”

Derek gripped Stiles by the shoulders and sat him up so that he was looking at Derek directly. Well, sort of, with a drooping head but still more directly than before. “Stiles. Stop it,” he said, punctuating his sentences with a shake of the teenager’s shoulders. “None of this is true, you’re just drunk and depressed. Your dad loves you and he’s glad to still have you, especially when he lost your mom. Having you as a reminder is a good thing, not a bad thing. Trust me, I’d love to have that.”

Stiles was quiet for a moment, seemingly trying to comprehend the information, before he asked, “You miss your mom too, Derek?”

“Of course I do,” he replied simply, not really wanting to go into more detail than that. He didn’t like thinking about any of it, especially not now that Peter was lurking around, just another reminder of all the mistakes Derek had made. “I miss them everyday,” he added quietly, not expanding on who ‘they’ were exactly.

Stiles sighed and plopped his head to the side again, falling into Derek’s lap so that his head was resting on his thigh. Stiles shoved his arm underneath Derek’s leg and hugged around his thigh possessively. 

“Did she sing you songs?” Stiles asked, closing his eyes as he spoke, apparently viewing something in his own mind.

“Not really, but she told us a lot of stories. Loads of stories about wolves - not werewolves, but just regular wolves and how when she was gone she wanted to be reborn into the spirit of a real wolf.”

Stiles smacked his mouth open and closed a couple of times. “That sounds really nice. I bet she’s running through the woods with Laura as a wolf right now,” he said, with a little too much volition for someone who didn’t know a thing about what he was talking about. “My mom always sang me songs; she had a beautiful voice that everyone was jealous of. Dad said that she could sing anything to sleep if she wanted or charm anyone with that voice. She was so pretty...”

Derek ran his hand over the side of Stiles’ face, nodding slowly as he stared down at the younger man. “Yes, she was,” he replied, thinking of his own mother and sister and sighing.

Stiles’ mouth fell open slightly a few moments later and soon enough he’d fallen asleep on Derek’s lap, snuggled as closely as possible to him. The Alpha really didn’t have the heart to move him, but he didn’t think he was going to be sleeping sitting up like this. He moved his legs gingerly until he had untangled Stiles’ arms from within them and lay himself out on the couch next to the teenager, who instantly rolled into him, shoving his nose directly into Derek’s chest. 

Derek hummed deep in his throat, finding the contact somehow soothing. Betas liked to curl into the Alpha like this and sleep - it was just something that wolves did in packs and Derek had long since gotten used to Isaac or Erica crawling into bed with him without any warning whenever they were under some kind of emotional distress. It wasn’t awkward for any of the werewolves in the least, but neither Lydia or Stiles had ever taken it upon themselves to partake in this sort of contact with Derek and he couldn’t help but feel like it solidified Stiles’ place in the pack; not that it needed to be consolidated in any way to prove that Stiles was already a fixed point in it.

The Alpha carefully folded his hand over Stiles’ pockets, fishing for his cell phone. He found it in the pocket of his hoodie and eased it out so that he could send Sheriff Stilinski a text so that he wouldn’t worry about Stiles’ disappearance. He knew better than to allow that kind of worry to develop in the young man’s father on a day like this.

_**Stiles said:** Staying over at Scott’s._

Once he hit send, he set the phone on silent and slid it back into Stiles’ pocket. Sighing, he wrapped his arm around Stiles’ shoulder to keep him from rolling and falling off the couch during the night and closed his own eyes, burying his nose into Stiles’ almost non-existent hair, and allowing the beat of the younger man’s heart lull him to sleep.


	2. heading for another take

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek has a revealing one-on-one with Jackson. Stiles is told that he is the Pack Mom. Derek and Stiles plan for the Pack Olympics. Derek gets some distressing news from Chris and Deaton.

☊ **_present day_** ☊  
It was going to be a long afternoon, Derek already knew. Neither of them wanted to be there, but this was something that had been a long time coming, especially considering that Derek hadn’t actually spent a significant amount of time alone with Jackson. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to - Jackson was just a very uncertain teenager and he needed to be dealt with in his own way. So far that way had been fairly hands-off, because getting too heavy handed with him would have only driven him to running away like Scott had and someone with Jackson’s temper didn’t need to be on his own without a pack to help mold him.

Derek was just lucky that underneath his perpetual habit to push everyone away with his bad attitude, Jackson was also genuinely needy. He didn’t know how to handle that kind of emotion, though, so he buried it and pretended it didn’t exist. So far that hadn’t worked out well for him; hopefully they could get him to figure out something better.

“Alright, I’m here, can we get this over with?” Jackson announced when he entered the train depot, ever the cheerful character.

“You’re missing the point completely, as always,” Derek crossed his arms over his chest and stared Jackson down.

“Of course, because everything we do now has to have a grander scheme,” Jackson snarked, dropping himself down onto the couch with obvious displeasure. He looked at Derek with a sarcastic expectance.

“No, but it does have to do with your attitude, which is always causing problems for everyone, especially yourself.”

Jackson scoffed at him. “Did you seriously bring me here so that we could _talk?_ This is ridiculous,” he said and he pulled out his phone.

Derek sat down on a stool, knowing full well that this wasn’t going to be easy - or fun. He didn’t want to go to extremes if he didn’t have to, but he wasn’t going to play games with Jackson either. He was getting sincerely tired of it. “Put it away,” he said with a low growl of warning.

The younger wolf did as he was told without question, but he still scowled at Derek, clearly displeased with the order. “What do you want from me, Derek? What do you honestly expect to get out of this?”

“None of this is for _me_ , Jackson. It’s not about what _I’ll_ get out of it, it’s about what _you_ need to get out of it. You’re in serious need of a reality check.” Derek really wanted to squeeze the life out of the teenager, because if there was anyone who was more infuriating than Scott, more than Stiles - well, okay, maybe not more than _Stiles_ \- it was Jackson Whittemore with his be all, end all attitude. 

“There’s nothing for me to _get!_ I let my temper get the better of me, I won’t do it again - that’s all there is to it!” Jackson sat forward, clenching his fists and his blunt human teeth - at least for now. 

“That’s not all there is - that’s never all there is with you, Jackson! You’re so closed-in on yourself that you refuse to let anyone see or know anything about you besides that bullshit exterior you’ve created!”

“That is the richest thing I’ve ever heard coming from someone like _you_ , Derek! You walk around here telling us to trust you and you wouldn’t give us the same courtesy even if we begged you to! You’re such a fucking hypocrite!” Jackson looked a little surprised at what he’d said - apparently he hadn’t meant to be that honest.

That hit him like a punch to the chest, especially considering he’d heard something similar from Stiles just the day before. But it was worse, somehow, coming from Jackson because he was supposed to be helping this kid become a successful werewolf and so far, he was failing. Nine months and he’d gotten nowhere in a hurry and he had to submit to the assessment he’d gotten from Stiles yesterday - Jackson was going to pull away and ultimately _run_ if he didn’t start handling this right. “You know what? You’re right. I’m full of shit - half of the things I say to you - I’m just talking out of my ass because I don’t know _what_ I’m supposed to do with you. I don’t know _how_ to help you deal with your issues, Jackson. You’re fucked up, I’m fucked up - I’m not really the right person to be trying to tell you how to get back on the right track.”

Jackson stared at him, eyes blown wide at the openness of his words and the way he was just laying it all out for once. It was definitely not something that either Derek or Jackson had done before, and certainly not with one another. “What - but you’re supposed to help me learn to control this! How am I supposed to - you’re supposed to have the answers! I am going to hurt someone if I don’t...” It was probably the most open and honest he’d ever seen Jackson get, but also the most fearful. He looked truly scared for the first time since Derek had bitten him, and while it was unfortunate that it took that kind of thing to get him to open up, it was the type of progress Derek could work with.

“I never said I had all the answers, Jackson. I _can_ help you, but only if you’re actually willing to be helped. If you’re worried about hurting Lydia, then you need to quit opposing this pack and start becoming a part of it. Lydia was able to do that, it’s time you did too.”

Jackson ran a hand over his neck and face, distress still clearly written all over it. “So that I get listen to all the _amazing_ advice that Scott can give now that he’s had the ever-so-brilliant Deaton as his Alpha, who - everyone seems to be forgetting - is a _fucking human?_ So I can jump through hoops for Stiles, who - once again, everyone is forgetting - _is a fucking human?_ ” By the end of his rant his eyes were glowing blue and his claws were extending and he was breathing hard, canine teeth pulling to points over his lips.

Derek growled in the back of his throat and leaned forward, his own canines growing in length as he let his fingernails extend to meet Jackson’s in a threat. “Lydia is human too, Jackson. What about _her?_ Should we just toss her out and ignore everything she has to contribute?”

“I _need_ her!”

“And we _need_ Stiles!” Derek said and he was slightly surprised by the truth of his words and the force with which he felt them. He wasn’t particularly keen on their meaning either. “We _need_ Scott and the things that he has learned from Deaton - that knowledge is priceless and we can’t get it anywhere else!”

“That doesn’t even make sense, Derek! You grew up in a family of werewolves and you have to get information about your own kind from _humans?_ ” Jackson stood up and though his eyes were still brilliantly blue, he wasn’t lowered in a crouch which let Derek know he wasn’t quite losing control of himself yet.

“It’s not us against them; we aren’t on opposing teams! Just because you became a werewolf doesn’t mean you get to forget all about being human, Jackson! You can’t just bury those parts of yourself - believe me, I’ve tried!” And okay, Derek wasn’t expecting to get quite that personal today, but if he was ever going to get through to Jackson, he was going to need to tell the truth and the truth was that Derek was quite similar to Jackson in a lot of ways.

And then the teenager was no longer on the verge of turning; he pulled it back and he was just Jackson again. A very vulnerable and wide-open Jackson that Derek was fairly certain no one else had ever seen before. “I don’t _want_ to be that person,” he spit out. He was quiet for a moment and Derek thought that was all he had to say, but then he continued more quietly, “I don’t know who he is anymore.”

Derek sighed, red eyes going hazel once more. “None of us really know who we are, Jackson, least of all me. But the pack is here - _Lydia_ is here - for you and we’re willing to help you figure him out.”

☋ **_month four_** ☋  
Stiles got a mischievous grin on his face, deciding that he was going to attempt to get one up on Isaac as they were walking down the street. So far he had been unsuccessful at this (with any of the wolves, really) but he was feeling particularly lucky that afternoon and there were first times for everything, right? As they rounded a corner - Isaac on the inside so that he wouldn’t be able to see it coming - Stiles snuck up and tried to catch Isaac’s ankle with his own so that he would trip him. 

Except of course none of that happened at all. Isaac seemed to have heard him approaching and acted on (wolfy survival) instinct, sticking his arm out and cleanly clotheslining Stiles. He was tossed back four feet just by the force of contact between his throat and Isaac’s triceps, landing flat on his tailbone and crying out in pain. “The _fuck_ , Isaac!”

“Oh shit, Stiles! I’m so sorry!” and of course he really was. Isaac was the type of person who felt like a total dick when he did things like that and would go as far as to injure himself if he thought it’d make the other person feel more comfortable. “Here, I can help!” he said, kneeling down next to Stiles and placing a hand on his forearm.

Stiles’ eyes had to have jumped right out of his face. If they didn’t, then he was losing his ever-loving mind because he was fairly certain he had gained some kind of whacked-out access to Isaac’s mind right then. He could feel all of his emotions - they were flooding into him in tidal waves, crashing through his brain like a badly cut montage. And if he was right about this, there seemed to be a reoccurring theme happening.

Isaac pulled his hand off and gasped, sitting back and looking thoroughly surprised himself so apparently this was a bombardment on both sides. No, wait - “Did you just see into my head?” Stiles asked feeling far too unnerved.

“No, but you could see into mine apparently. I don’t know _what_ that was,” Isaac said breathlessly and he sounded pretty freaked out, so Stiles decided that it probably wasn’t an appropriate time to crack a joke or say that he felt a bit violated. He also didn’t feel anymore pain though, so there was that.

“Well, first: thanks for taking the pain away,” he said, trying for nice. “Second: so uh, you have a crush on Scott or something?”

Isaac groaned and tugged at his curls. “Why did that _happen?_ We healed Erica and Boyd and nothing like that happened!”

Stiles chewed on his bottom lip, considering that. The healing thing was a new one to him still and Deaton only knew so much about it so really, they were all kind of playing it by ear at this point. Finally he said, “Alright well let’s think about this then. Erica and Boyd were under the influence of the Mountain Ash, right?”

“You were getting rid of it though, so that couldn’t be it, could it?” Isaac asked skeptically, but he looked up at Stiles with hopeful eyes. Apparently not tormenting him about the Scott thing was making him feel less anxious.

“Well, what about the fact that they were unconscious? Their minds weren’t really awake to receive anything from you guys, so maybe that made a difference?” Stiles tried again.

Isaac was quiet for a while and Stiles wondered if the werewolf didn’t think that his theory was plausible enough. He kept staring at the concrete between his legs and picking at some stray weeds growing through a crack. But then he said, “So... I like Scott.”

Stiles cleared his throat. “Well uh, I mean, living in his house and spending all that time with him... I could understand how it could happen, man.”

He looked up at Stiles like he was stupid. “You’re his best friend and you’ve spent plenty of time with him. Did you ever feel attracted to him?” He was attempting to sound nonchalant, but he was actually hoping that the answer would be an affirmative, Stiles could hear it underneath the words.

Stiles shook his head slowly. “Uh, no, not really. Scott’s uh... he’s a good guy and all, but he’s kind of - he’s an idiot. Not really my type, dude.” If you sat Scott next to Lydia it’d be like the child prodigy writing symphonies and the monkey throwing his shit at things. “So are you - are you gay? I mean, not that it matters, but I just-” Stiles still hadn’t learned to think more about the things he was going to say. One day it was going to get him into some serious trouble.

“I don’t know. Maybe. I hadn’t really thought about it; this is the first time I’ve ever even _considered_... but it does matter, because-because Scott’s not gay, is he?” Despite the attempt to confirm it for himself, he apparently couldn’t stop himself from hoping - from asking if maybe, just maybe...

Stiles couldn’t give him false hope though. He knew Scott well and Isaac knew him pretty well now too and he was just going on wishful thinking at that point. “I don’t think so, Isaac. Scott’s - he’s pretty much in love with Allison. He’s convinced they are fated to be together and regardless of the fact that they’ve been broken up for four months, he’s still not worried about them getting back together at some point. He still talks about her like they are dating _now_...”

Isaac didn’t look too beaten up, so apparently he’d been telling himself these things too. “Yeah, I know. Scott’s just been so nice to me, Stiles, and I just - I dunno...”

Sighing, Stiles scooted over and put an arm around the werewolf’s shoulders. “Hey, y’know, maybe it’s not what you think. Maybe you’re just thankful for having Scott’s friendship and you’re misinterpreting it?” It was a lame attempt, he knew, but he wanted to steer Isaac away from Scott if he could. Having a crush on Scott would inevitably lead to heartache for Isaac because, while Scott would probably be nice about it, he would never get his head pulled far enough out of Allison’s ass to even consider anyone else.

Surprisingly enough though, Isaac was taking the bait and attempting to run with it. “Well, maybe you’re right. I did kinda think that I had a crush on Erica for a bit back when we were the only two in Derek’s pack. It could just be that...” It was weak, but it was something.

“Right. I’ve had that before. Someone pays you enough attention and you could totally think you’re falling for them but later on you realize that you like them as just a friend,” Stiles continued, squeezing Isaac’s shoulder.

“Yeah. Thanks Stiles.” Isaac gave him a weak smile, pressing his shoulder in against Stiles’. 

“We’ll just get you out there and find you someone you can actually date, huh? Someone who’s not hopelessly obsessed with someone else. Definitely should find someone in a more healthy state than that.” Stiles nodded pointedly.

“I didn’t mean that I needed to start dating or anything-” Isaac began, cheeks turning a little pink.

Stiles ruffled his hair. “Oh no, it’s already begun, grasshopper. You have set these wheels in motion! You are stuck on this train now - buckle up and get ready because this plane is about to take off onto the highway of _love!_ ”

“Maybe you’re not the best person to be helping me with this...”

☊ **_present day_** ☊  
“I am not going to help you with this, Stiles,” Lydia shook her strawberry blond curls back and forth with finality. “This was your brilliant idea and Derek said that he agreed with you so the two of you can put your little heads together and plan all you want.”

Stiles tried on his best puppy dog look, which admittedly was not quite as good as Scott’s, but at least he had the brown eyes to his advantage. Isaac was trying to teach him the finer points of the puppy dog eyes and how to work them, but Stiles was beginning to think that if you didn’t have werewolf blood in you, you were just doomed to be hopeless at it. “ _Lydiaaaa_ , you’re my human pack, you’re in two of my packs. Two - count ‘em-” he held up two fingers, “- _two_ of my packs. How much more convincing could you possibly _need?_ Also the fact that you’re obviously brilliant, talented, beautiful, and ever so clever and we need all of those things in order to make this successful...” he laid it on thickly, knowing full well that Lydia enjoyed hearing complimentary things about herself.

“All of the things you say about me are true, Stiles, and while I do find your pathetic floundering like a lost puppy both ironic and slightly endearing, I can’t help you. I’m already working on something.” She looked a bit fidgety when she said it, glancing away from him toward the door like someone was going to walk into the cafeteria and interrupt them.

Stiles raised an eyebrow questioningly. “What?”

“Don’t worry about it. Just know that I can’t help you and leave it at that. You are perfectly capable of working with Derek, Stiles.”

He groaned as Danny took a seat next to him and Isaac on the other. Lydia apparently took that as her cue to leave, because she was gone in the next moment. “What?” Danny asked, though he sounded wary. He was learning that asking that question around this group would always get him some outrageous answers. Of course when your best friend turned from a vicious, uncontrollable lizard-man on a vendetta murder-spree to a hairy, howling claw-and-teeth werewolf who had very little self control when it came to transformations, it was fairly easy to figure out that something wasn’t on the up-and-up. Danny definitely was not an idiot and the only reason he hadn’t been asking more questions about Jackson’s weirdness before was because he was just _that_ loyal, but after seeing him transform, Jackson was sort of past the point of hiding it from him. So Stiles, Lydia, and Allison had gladly offered to include Danny in their pack, which really only had amounted to nothing more than a supernatural book club back when they weren’t really included in much of anything and were just trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Still, it had actually been kind of fun to hang out with people who were _just fucking normal_ for a change. 

Stiles leaned against his arm splayed across the table beside his lunch tray. “Danny, don’t ever let me open my big mouth and spew out my creative genius again. It’s too taxing on my overly large brain.”

“Uhhh...” was Danny’s reply, and his disbelief in Stiles’ ingenuity was not appreciated. 

Isaac shook his head with a snort, shoveling macaroni and cheese into his giant cake-hole like it was a bottomless pit. These wolves never got full - they were like vacuum cleaners. “ _Si_ les,” he said through a mouthful before swallowing it and then continuing, “It won’t be _that_ bad.”

“Have _you_ ever spent that much time alone with Derek? And not just that - have you ever tried to get him to _agree_ with you on things? It’s like talking to a tree! No- it’s like talking to Treebeard, except Treebeard would probably be more exciting!” he groaned, banging his forehead on the table.

Danny had really only met Derek once or twice and the first time had been when Stiles had introduced him as Miguel and had coerced Danny with naked man-boobs, so his impression of Derek was so obviously biased. “He’s not that bad, Stiles.”

“You just like his abs - pecs - whatevers! Danny, your opinion cannot be trusted when it comes to Derek and his personality because you are totally unable to see past his ass!”

Danny gave him a hard look. “I do _not_ have a thing for Derek’s ass. I have only seen him twice and he’s like - like six years older than us or something!”

“Oh that won’t even matter once we’re eighteen!” Stiles said offhandedly, for whatever reason. It’s not like he expected Danny to try to go after Derek or anything, but for some reason he had to defend his argument to the last, even if it became ludicrous. 

Isaac raised an eyebrow over Stiles’ shoulder at Danny, who returned the face which Stiles saw and looked up, whipping his head back and forth between the two of them. “ _What?_ ”

“Nothing,” Isaac said, shaking his head. “You’re making a big deal out of nothing. Derek’s not even that bad anymore. You’re just overreacting.”

Scott plopped down across from them, followed by Allison a few moments later.

“What’s Stiles complaining about today?” Allison asked with a smirk and then gave him a wink.

“Ha ha, very witty,” Stiles mocked and shoveled a spoonful of rice off his tray and flicked it toward her without preamble.

“Hey!” She jumped when the rice hit her intricately laced blouse. Stiles felt his face lift. This could get more interesting actually.

“Challenge accepted, Stiles,” Allison said in a low voice and she had a hand in Isaac’s mac-n-cheese mountain (“Hey that’s mine!” he was pouting instantly and snatching the leftovers away possessively) within a second and was rubbing it into Stiles’ face before he had a chance to blink. 

“ _Holy shit!_ Scott, have you been giving her werewolf speed lessons or something?” Nevermind, this wasn’t interesting anymore. He wiped at his face with his hoodie sleeve; it was his favorite one too, man. He switched it for Danny’s shirt sleeve but Danny pulled away, looking annoyed. Stiles gave him the puppy dog eyes, but Danny was not buying it apparently because he just handed Stiles some napkins.

“I don’t have to teach her anything,” Scott said, way more wistfully than was completely necessary. God, he was such a douchebag when it came to Allison - it was like she never dumped him. Except Stiles remembered that part because he got to listen to him talk about how much he _missed_ her all the time too. If Stiles didn’t know that Allison was actually a pretty cool person, he’d consider having her removed from the premises permanently because she seriously damaged his calm when it came to being able to hang out with Scott and not wanting to throw up every two seconds. It was definitely good that she broke up with Scott though because she had needed the time to heal and deal with the things that were driving her manic behavior and didn’t need to bother with a hormonal teenage boy at the same time.

“Alright, y’know what? I think I will enjoy my time with Derek because all of you are a bunch of dicks. That’s right, I said it. A bunch of a wrinkly, hanging-”

“Stilinski! Quit talking about dicks in the lunch hall! Fifty laps after practice!” Coach Finstock said as he walked by - and of course by said, he really screamed because that was the only volume Coach had.

“Danny sniggered into his hand and Stiles punched him in his ridiculously well-developed arm. “I hate you all.”

☊

Stiles groaned as he ran around the field toward Isaac and Scott. “Do _not_ \- tell Derek - why I - am - not at - the meet - ing,” he huffed between almost half of his words, holding his hands on his knees hunched over. Scott grabbed a bottle of Gatorade and Stiles snatched it out of his hand without asking and threw his head back, holding his mouth open wide so he could squirt it in. He mostly missed but at least he got a fair amount in to feel slightly more refreshed than before.

“We have to tell him _something_ ,” Scott said, looking befuddled. All of the lying that Stiles did and Scott had not learned one damned thing from him. He was literally _the_ worst liar on the face of the planet. 

Stiles turned to Isaac. “Please, man. Don’t fail me. Scott is useless, but you might be able to save my ass.”

“Why are you acting like you’re having to lie about this to your father or something?” Isaac smirked and Stiles didn’t like that tone _or_ that smirk. Great, he couldn’t count on either of them. 

“Because Derek will _mock_ me until the end of time! I can’t have that! And like, I don’t know what the rules are for missing pack meetings, dude! I’ve never seen the manual on it. What if I get punished or something?”

Scott rolled his eyes and Isaac looked skeptical. “When do you ever get in trouble for anything?” he asked.

“What? I-I get in trouble! I am always getting into trouble! Why do you think I am so freaking scared of Derek?” he did not understand what they were talking about. Derek yelled at him all the damn time for half the shit he said, which really Stiles did not think was deserved.

“Stilinski! Do you want to stand around and chat about dicks some more or run laps all night long?” Coach Finstock yelled when he noticed that Stiles wasn’t doing his laps. 

Stiles opened his mouth to reply, but then he realized what Finstock had actually said and wasn’t really sure what his answer was supposed to be. “Uh, Coach...”

“Just do the laps or I’ll make you wash my car too, smartass!”

Stiles waved Isaac and Scott forward with him as he began jogging and they reluctantly followed. Isaac continued talking. “Stiles, you get away with everything.”

“I do not!”

“You kind of do, man,” Scott replied, shrugging.

“We’re not complaining. We understand.”

“Understand _what?_ ” He’d certainly like to understand what everyone else seemed to understand so well because this well-known pack secret was a damned mystery to him, apparently. Okay, maybe there were _some_ things he did that Derek let slide, but that was because Stiles was human and also because Derek probably just thought he was an idiot and incapable of much else, right?

“That you’re the Pack Mom,” Isaac said simply.

Stiles had heard mention of this once or twice before, but only in a few passing jokes. Somehow with Isaac and Scott jogging along next him now and Isaac speaking so resolutely about the subject, he had a feeling that it was no longer a joke and much more of a _thing_ with them - all of them. He tripped over his own feet and went face first into the green. The two wolves stopped short and were helping him up almost quicker than he’d fallen down. He was still sputtering on grass when they had righted him on his feet again. Damn werewolves and their reflexes.

“What the hell, Stiles?” Scott asked, looking worried about his friend’s sanity.

Stiles wiped grass off his lips. “Why are you ‘what the hell’-ing me, dude? I’m not the weirdo going around saying that my _male_ best friend is the-” he raised his fingers in the air to give magnificently exaggerated air quotes, “-Pack Mom.”

Scott just shrugged and deferred to Isaac, as usual. “It’s true though. You’ve been taking care of us forever.”

This time when he sputtered, there wasn’t any grass in his mouth to blame it on. “I-I have _not_ been - I don’t - that is completely-”

“McCall - Lahey! Get your asses off the field before I grab them and do it for you! Stilinski doesn’t need you two holding his hands to run around the field!”

Scott cast an uncomfortable glance at the other two. “Did he just say he was going to grab our asses?”

“I think we should go before Coach says anything else about dicks and asses. Bye Stiles,” Isaac said, not looking quite as apologetic as he sounded.

“Gee, thanks guys! I see how much you care about your so-called Pack Mom!” Oh great, now _he_ was saying it!

☊

Stiles was practically crawling out of his Jeep when he got to the train depot. He knew that at this point, no one was going to be there anymore - or if they were they were just hanging out. It had taken him two hours to finish and Coach was virtually foaming at the mouth; Stiles had suggested truncating his sentence, but apparently Coach hadn’t been in the mood after Stiles had delayed him for so long.

When he stumbled into the warehouse-like room, he found Peter talking to Lydia on the couch and Jackson standing in the corner like a stalker, staring them down with a gold medal-winning glare. Peter was bright and talkative as always and he looked up when Stiles entered and smiled his creeper-uncle smile at him. “Hello Stiles. How was practice?”

“Enlightening,” Stiles mumbled sarcastically. He really did not like talking to Peter. Or looking at him. Just seeing Peter’s face made him all sorts of uncomfortable. It was like flashing back to the night when Peter had Stiles’ arm and was seconds away from changing his life forever and Stiles was damn near close to letting him do it too. It made him feel disgusted and sick and he felt all of those things every fucking time he saw Peter’s stupid, annoying face. 

“Is that so?” Peter asked, amused.

“Yeah, it is. Where’s Derek?” he asked. He didn’t see him anywhere and he sincerely hoped he had not come here for nothing. 

“He’s in the back,” Jackson said, throwing his thumb over his shoulder toward the back room without moving his eyes from Peter or Lydia. Was Jackson being... _helpful?_ He was probably so distracted by Peter that he didn’t know that it was Stiles he was talking to. Peter was about the one thing that Jackson and Stiles agreed on - they both hated him and they both voiced that opinion every chance they got. It was an uncomfortable camaraderie for them, but it was one of the only that they had.

Stiles gave him a curt nod and headed toward the back room as quickly as possible, the tension in the room a little too palpable for him to remain and not have to chew his way through it. He found Derek lying on his bed reading a book, as casual as you please like there was not a wild west showdown going on just outside the room. Stiles stood there for a moment, his mouth agape as he looked at the Alpha.

Derek raised an eyebrow above his book, wondering just how long Stiles planned to stand there like that. Finally he said, “So, dicks huh?”

Stiles’ jaw closed with an audible snap and Derek tried to hide his smirk behind the cover of the book he was now pretending to read. “ _Really?_ Those bastards!”

Derek lowered his book, but he didn’t stop smirking at Stiles. It wasn’t really possible for him to do at that point. “Did you enjoy your one-on-one time with your coach?”

“Oh yeah, he’s just a riot. It’s so much fun when he’s talking about dicks and asses and making me run around for no damned reason whatsoever.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you shouldn’t be calling your friends ‘dicks’ at lunch. Just a thought.”

Stiles scowled and plopped down on Derek’s bed, toeing off his shoes. He shoved his sweaty feet right next to Derek’s face. Derek pushed at his calves, nose scrunched up unpleasantly. “Really, Stiles? You’re worse than a dog.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I’m not a werewolf then, it would have been bad for everyone. Anyway, what’d I miss? What’s Peter talking to Lydia about? You _do_ know that Jackson’s about to rip his face off, right?”

Derek shrugged and leaned back a bit so he could look down at Stiles better at the other side of the bed. “Not much, it was pretty routine. And Peter is just talking with her. Jackson’s got nothing to worry about, he’s just being territorial.”

Stiles couldn’t believe he was about to say this, but there had to be a first time for everything, he supposed. “He’s just being _smart_. None of us should trust Peter, Derek, not even if he’s ‘just talking’ - I’m not sure he’s even capable of _just_ doing anything. He’s always got some sort of ulterior motive.”

Derek growled and Stiles recoiled back in a flinch. “I know what’s going on with my uncle, Stiles. I don’t need _you_ to tell me.”

“Okay,” Stiles squeaked quietly.

He sighed. He wanted to apologize for doing that, but he couldn’t with the others still around. He touched Stiles’ leg instead, squeezing it and attempting to give him a sobering look so that hopefully he’d see that he wasn’t really angry. He shouldn’t even do that - it wasn’t like Stiles should get special treatment, but he hated when Stiles looked scorned by him - it just didn’t feel right.

Stiles seemed to understand though and relaxed, leaning into Derek’s legs for a moment and then flopping onto his back on the bed to stare at the ceiling. Derek still hadn’t moved his hand from Stiles’ leg and pulled it back, feeling awkward all of a sudden. “So, I guess we have to talk about the Pack Olympics, huh? If it’s going to be epic as well as a wolfy-learning experience, I am assuming you want to be involved in the planning.”

Derek smiled a little. “You assume correctly. I can’t let you plan it on your own; there’s no guarantee you’d plan anything that’s beneficial and not just a bunch of crap you think will look cool.”

Stiles scoffed at the ceiling. “Oh, it’s going to look cool, regardless. You can’t stop the signal, Derek.”

He raised his eyebrow. “What?”

“God, you are completely useless. We have _got_ to get you caught up on some 21st Century culture before I am forced to no longer claim you as Alpha for the shame of it.”

“Yes, understanding all your ridiculous references is definitely the way to deal with the Alpha pack,” Derek rolled his eyes easily.

“Hey, you never know! You could get some fantastic ideas from one of these life-changing television series! I am just _saying!_ ”

☋ **_month six_** ☋  
Stiles was a little surprised by Scott’s downtrodden mood when they met up after school. “What’s up?” he asked uncertainly. They hadn’t talked much during school that day, so it was possible that something had happened yesterday and Scott hadn’t had a chance to tell him yet. Scott managing to stick to the same mood the entire day was generally only reserved for dwelling on Allison so this had to be something serious.

“Deaton is telling me to leave the pack,” Scott grumbled, his voice hardly audible. 

Stiles tried not to let his emotions show on his face at that revelation. He had been talking (others might call it badgering) to Scott about rejoining Derek’s pack, but Stiles hadn’t really thought about going to Deaton about it. He was Scott’s Alpha and as far as Stiles had known, he enjoyed the role and wasn’t keen on giving it up. So this revelation was rather illuminating. “What do you mean?” he asked finally, going for something safe.

“He keeps telling me that he’s running out of things that he can teach me because he’s only human and that I need to join Derek’s pack again if I want to ‘ _hone myself to my full potential_ ’ or something like that.” Scott wasn’t even trying to keep the bitterness from his voice.

“Why don’t you want to join Derek’s pack?” Stiles ventured, because Scott seriously seemed opposed to it but never really said why.

He grumbled in reply and for a few minutes Stiles resigned himself to the fact that Scott just wasn’t going to give him a straight answer to that. “Derek doesn’t trust anyone. He expects everyone to just listen to him and go along with what he says but he won’t give anyone the benefit of the doubt. That’s not the mark of a good Alpha.”

Stiles considered that, because it was definitely true. Derek had a horrific tendency to push everyone away from himself but then expect that they all still trust in him - it was pretty warped. “Alright, you’re right about that, but dude, he’s actually getting better,” Stiles said and it wasn’t a complete lie. Derek had grown accustomed to at least talking to the pack and considering their ideas more, though Stiles didn’t think he trusted them at all. “He just needs the time to learn; he isn’t perfect by a long shot, but he’s doing a hell of a lot better than he had been back when he first bit Isaac, Erica, and Boyd.”

Scott didn’t seem convinced. He also didn’t seem like he wanted to concede to Stiles’ argument, which he had been making a lot in the past couple of weeks. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” he said as a challenge.

“Well you won’t see it until you join the pack again,” Stiles goaded hopefully, nudging Scott’s elbow.

“You never give up, do you?” Scott groaned.

“How long have you known me?”

“I may be regretting my kindergarten choices of friendship,” Scott said solemnly, but there was a smirk playing at the edge of his mouth.

Stiles gasped in mock hurt. “That is a terrible thing to say to someone who basically carried you through middle school, Scott McCall.”

Scott narrowed his eyes. “I’m going to carry your ass out that window,” he said lamely.

“Okay, Coach, any other awesome threats you want to throw my way?”

Scott pounced on him which was not at all fair.

☋

Derek didn’t seem particularly receptive to the idea that Lydia and Stiles were pitching to him. Stiles was trying to decide if he just genuinely didn’t want Scott back in the pack or if maybe he felt some residual betrayal at the way Scott had sold him out to Gerard and then walked out on him after his usefulness had expired. Stiles couldn’t exactly say that it was unwarranted.

“What makes you think that Scott even wants back in the pack?” Derek asked them skeptically.

“Because I’m his best friend and I talk to him everyday?” Stiles offered dumbly. Lydia threw him a look of annoyance, like he was making her stupider by sitting next to her.

“Scott said that Deaton has told him that their time together is at an end. While he does think of Scott like a son, he’s not really an Alpha, even if Scott wants him to be one. Scott needs a werewolf to show him how to develop properly - he needs _you_ , Derek.” Lydia stated, obviously a hundredfold more eloquently than Stiles would have managed.

Derek weighed the truthfulness of her words against his knowledge of Scott’s behavior. Scott was a risk in more ways than one, because he thought with his heart instead of his brain whereas Derek never considered his heart in anything - it was just a liability. He studied Lydia and Stiles’ faces, seeing the hopefulness and the resoluteness there; they had already decided that Scott was pack and needed to be here. The only problems he saw arising were with Jackson and Peter - Jackson he could take care of, Peter was something he wasn’t entirely certain about. He didn’t quite know Peter’s motivation still and that was a problem.

He tried to clear his head of that and focus back on Scott though. Despite the risks, he was still useful. “Tell him to come by and I’ll talk to him,” Derek offered amicably.

Stiles broke out in a maniacal grin. “Oh man, thanks, Derek!”

☋

Derek didn’t expect Scott to stop by that evening, but maybe that said something about him. He wasn’t really sure what, but it was something.

“So uh, Stiles said that I should come by,” Scott said, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.

Derek nodded. “He and Lydia said that Deaton has been telling you that you should consider looking for a new pack?” Floundering around the topic at hand was pointless; they both knew what they were here for.

Scott nodded slowly. “He says that he’s got nothing else he can teach me - that I need a werewolf to go any further.” He didn’t sound particularly happy that that werewolf was Derek.

Derek considered him for a moment before delving in. “You don’t need to come here just because Deaton says you need a werewolf for an Alpha, Scott. I know that you weren’t happy with the way I did things six months ago and you were right. All of you were right. I-I was reckless and I let the power go to my head and I didn’t deserve to keep the pack that I ended up with, but they gave me the chance anyway and I damn well did my best. And I have no qualms with taking you in, but we aren’t going to allow you to stay if you’re going to hate all the time you spend with us. Because believe it or not, we’ve actually got something resembling a family and it’s working well enough for us that we can’t afford to have it disassembled from the inside-out.” He took a deep breath, surprising even himself by how much he had said.

Scott looked surprised by the speech. It wasn’t often that Derek gave speeches, after all. It was mostly glowering and growling. “Stiles said that things were going pretty well for you guys, I guess I just didn’t think it was true.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Thanks?”

Scott laughed. “Sorry. I really would like to be with you guys again. I mean, if that’s alright with you. But I still want to help Deaton and Chris when they need me, if I can.” He looked stupidly hopeful, like Derek might already be dashing away his hopes and dreams.

“You can still help them, Scott. I’m not going to keep you from seeing people - unless you have contact with the Alpha pack, in which case there will be issues,” Derek gave him a hard look, though there wasn’t a lot of malice behind it. He didn’t really blame Scott for what he had done with Gerard, considering the way the man kept threatening his mom, but he should have come to him instead of always trying to handle things on his own.

Scott held up his hands. “I know just as much as you do on that front, I swear. Well, you guys might know more than I do, even.”

Derek clapped him on the shoulder. “We all know more than you do, Scott,” to which Scott scowled good-naturedly. “Welcome back, man.”

☊ **_present day_** ☊  
Derek snorted. “Dart throwing isn’t an Olympic sport.”

Stiles looked annoyed. “I don’t care, it is _awesome_ and we should include it!”

It was a Friday evening and they were spending most of it bickering back and forth, sheets of paper spread all over Derek’s bed along with a bowl of popcorn that was half empty and far too many cans of caffeine being consumed (mostly on Stiles’ part). The clock was ticking ever closer to midnight and they had only really agreed on three events after being at this for four and a half hours.

“I don’t really see the benefit,” Derek sighed, shifting his position and looking at Stiles expectantly.

“There are plenty!” Stiles ticked them off on his fingers as he named them, “Hand-eye coordination, depth perception, wrist control, strength-checking for delicate tasks, the possibility for either teams or singular competition...”

Derek tried not to look too annoyed about how knowledgeable Stiles had become in just the past four hours from what Derek had told him of what the wolves needed to learn in order to coexist and work properly together. “Couldn’t we just use archery for that?” Derek suggested, annoyance creeping into his voice anyway.

“It’s not a fine motor skill,” Stiles replied simply.

“Do you even know what that means?” Derek asked skeptically.

Stiles looked like he was considering that. “Sort of, but who cares. You know I’m right.”

“Put it on the list, but I doubt it’ll make the final cut,” Derek sighed at the smirk he received for it. “We need to include some good team sports,” Derek said, looking at the scribbled notes they had all over the bed.

“Lacrosse, duh,” Stiles replied, already writing it down.

“No, it needs to be something they aren’t used to playing.”

“Why?” Stiles asked curiously.

“Because if they are doing something that is routine then they aren’t inside of their heads completely and that allows for distractions. They always need to be focused on their pack mates when the situations call for it so that they don’t tender mistakes. If the entire pack isn’t working together because one wolf is too busy thinking about himself instead of the group, the whole unit is nullified and that’s what we’ve got to get-”

Stiles was watching him, eyes gliding over his face steadily like he’d been saying something worth studying closely. 

Derek balked. “ _What?_ ”

Stiles shook his head, eyes coming into focus as he blinked a couple of times. “Uh, nothing, I just - I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you talk about them like that. Or talk about the reasoning for a pack beyond ‘stronger, better, faster,’ y’know?”

He raised his eyebrow. “I didn’t make the pack just to make myself better, Stiles. I didn’t offer them the bite just to benefit myself...”

“Oh! Oh, I know that - that’s not what I meant, really. It’s just - you usually talk about how they’ve got to-”

“ _We_ ,” Derek cut across him pointedly.

“What?” Stiles asked, a look of confusion on his face.

“You keep referring to the pack as ‘they.’ This is your pack too.”

Stiles opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “Right. Right, I just - I don’t really consider myself when I’m talking about the werewolves...” he trailed off, looking down at his hands.

Derek knew that it was more difficult for them than Lydia and Stiles sometimes liked to let on. Being accepted into the pack was one thing, but that didn’t change the fact that they were still _human_ and the significant differences between them and the rest of the pack could be intimidating at times. “But this is still your pack, even if you’re not one of the werewolves. You should get used to being in the collective and stop excluding yourself. You’re a permanent fixture.”

Stiles looked up at him about halfway through that and stared him down, brown eyes daring Derek to be lying. But he wouldn’t lie, not about his pack, not about something that important to both Stiles and himself. “Okay, yeah - I’ll work on that. What I meant was that I’ve never heard you talk about the pack - about _us_ \- outside of pack meetings... it’s-it’s nice.”

Derek had his eyebrow halfway up his forehead again. He wasn’t certain what Stiles was going on about.

“Oh my _God_ , forget it. You are incapable of taking a compliment.”

“That was a _compliment?_ ”

“Yes!”

“In what universe?”

Stiles groaned exasperatedly. “You are such a pain in the ass! Like, you say that we are infuriating, but you are the most infuriatingly frustrating Alpha in the world! Not just that, the most infuriating _person_ in the world! Holy crap, it’s like trying to get a brick wall to understand the finer intricacies of human emotion!”

Derek frowned. “I think that’s a bit excessive...”

“You really have no idea how ridiculous it is to talk to you. And I mean, you’ve even improved, which is what is so mind-boggling about it!” Stiles gave a weird, manic-looking smile and ran his hand over his shorn head in frustration.

“Why does it bother you so much?” Derek pressed, wondering where all this was even coming from.

“Because apparently I am the Pack Mom and that’s what I do - I worry about everything and everyone,” Stiles sighed and he was scrubbing his face like this was the most taxing thing he’d ever talked about.

Derek smirked. “Pack Mom?” he asked with amusement.

“Yes. Mommy Wolf,” he said, pointing to himself, then he pointed to Derek, “Daddy Wolf, and Baby Wolves,” he gestured out into the air, which apparently meant the rest of the pack.

Derek snorted over a laugh that was bubbling in his chest. “Who said _that?_ ” he asked incredulously.

“Oh _please_ , Derek,” Stiles replied, but he sounded a little amused now, “don’t you know it’s all the rage in Pack Hale-Stilinski? I mean, you might be the head of the family, but everyone knows that all the _real_ power resides in the hands of the momma.” He puffed out his chest and fisted his hands at his hips in a mock-superman pose.

Derek rolled his eyes and pretended that Stiles had not just said something _else_ about taking over power as the Alpha. Seriously, he was lucky that no one else was around right now.

“This is a pack and maybe even a family, but we do not have those types of traditional family roles. And I am _not_ ‘Daddy Wolf’,” he scoffed.

“You’re just pissed that everyone loves me more than they do you,” Stiles stuck his tongue out, abandoning his pose and tossing a wayward pencil at Derek’s face. 

He caught it with ease before it could hit him in the nose. “I’m green with envy,” he deadpanned.

“That’s alright, I can teach you some of my tricks. They are widespread and many, but I’m sure you could catch on eventually,” Stiles laughed, eyes gleaming.

Derek studied his face, taking in the happiness that splayed through the lines at the corners of his eyes and the wrinkle of his nose as he smiled. It was a nice sight to have in front of him and it was something Derek could get used to seeing in the pack hideout more regularly. Stiles seemed to be worried more than smiling lately so it was important that he was genuinely cheerful every now and then.

“Does Jackson know that he’s being referred to as a ‘Baby Wolf’?” Derek asked, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

Stiles visibly deflated. “Derek, we just got our runaway back, I don’t understand - _why are you trying to tear this family apart?_ ” Stiles piled on as much overreaching emotion as he could muster into the last bit, clutching at Derek’s pant leg and looking thoroughly distraught.

“Okay, now it’s just getting weird,” Derek said.

Stiles released his leg and his face cleared of all previous distress as he sat up. “Yeah, you’re right, I think we should leave that alone for now. Besides, I definitely don’t have the child-bearing hips for this motherhood gig,” he said, looking down at his own waist with a smirk because he very obviously was not leaving it alone at all. Stiles jumped suddenly though and said, “Oh shit!” and Derek looked confusedly at him.

“What?”

“I didn’t tell my dad I’d be out this late. I guess I should probably...go?” Stiles looked at Derek uncertainly.

Derek frowned. “You can stay if you want, Stiles. You don’t have to leave.”

“Yeah?” Stiles asked, sounding far more surprised than he should.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Yes, this is the home of the pack, Stiles, and that includes you. When are you going to stop being surprised by that?”

“I don’t know, it just doesn’t seem to be the same for me as it does for the wolves,” he jumped off the bed and lifted his hands in front of his face in self defense. “I know - I know, it’s the same, I get it. Let me go call him.”

Stiles walked into the other room, but of course Derek could still hear him and his father’s voice on the phone perfectly fine.

“Stiles,” the Sheriff said when he picked up the phone. From what it sounded like, he was working.

“Hey Dad, sorry I didn’t call sooner. Let time get away from me.”

“Out with Scott?”

“Yeah... Scott and Isaac,” Stiles replied. Lie.

“What are you boys doing?”

“Oh y’know, just playing video games...eating pizza...watching movies. Just hanging out - the usual.” Another lie.

“Friday night and Scott isn’t out with Allison?” the Sheriff sounded skeptical.

“Well, I think Allison’s dad said something about mandatory father-daughter time and commandeered her Friday night because she’d been spending too much time with Scott.” While that could possibly have a kernel of truth to it, still a lie.

“Ah, well I can’t blame him for that. How’s Isaac doing?” he asked, concern obvious in his voice.

“Oh he’s-he’s good,” Stiles answered, apparently not certain what to say.

“He’s doing okay at Scott’s?” was apparently the real question.

“ _Oh_ , yeah. Yeah of course. I mean, Ms. McCall... well, she’s Ms. McCall - Isaac couldn’t ask for a better foster parent, really. He really likes it there and he and Scott are getting along really well.” _A little too well on Isaac’s part, apparently_ , Derek thought with amusement.

“Good, I’m glad. It was a great thing for her to take him in like that. She’s a good woman,” the Sheriff said and there was definitely an interesting tone in his voice that Derek noticed and Stiles probably didn’t recognize at all.

“Yeah, she’s great,” he replied, sounding clueless.

“Well you boys don’t get into any trouble, alright? I’ll know if you do.” Derek could have sworn he heard him tapping his name badge through the phone.

“Hmm thanks for the reassurance of your belief in my character. It’s very refreshing,” Stiles said sarcastically.

“Just know that I’m always watching you,” the Sheriff said and Derek snorted.

“Oh awesome, Big Brother and everything - that’s just great, Dad. Not creepy _at all_. I think I’m going to go before I get even more weirded out by this conversation.”

“Uh huh. Have fun. Love you, son.”

“Love you too, creepy father-o-mine,” Stiles said and hung up his phone.

When Stiles walked back into Derek’s room, Derek asked, “Does it bother you?”

“Huh?” Stiles looked confused.

“Having to lie to him so much.”

He shrugged and tried to look nonchalant. If he was phased by Derek having known what transpired during his phone conversion, he didn't show it. "It is what it is. He is better off not knowing, so if lying to him is what keeps him from knowing, then so be it. At least I can tell him the truth about who I am with - _mostly_. He knows who my friends are and that is a step in the right direction."

Derek considered that. He was basically the link in the chain that made everything fall apart - the black sheep no one could talk about. Sometimes it was unfortunate that no one knew about him, but other times he remembered that it was for the best that Stiles' father didn't know that Derek was in his life (or the other teens' lives, for that matter). On top of his 'person of interest' status, it would be odd for him to be hanging out with a bunch of teenagers, so keeping it on the down-low was the best thing for it. "I'm glad you have such a great relationship with him. It's a good thing, Stiles." He tried not to look wistful as he said it.

The teen nodded. "Yeah-yeah it is," he replied, smiling wide. "Now what team sport were you thinking of subjecting them to?" He plopped back on the bed, reclining his head on Derek’s legs and pillowing his hands behind his neck, smirking over at the werewolf.

“I’m thinking baseball,” Derek replied, eying Stiles with a bit of amusement.

“Baseball,” the teenager parroted, rolling it around on his tongue. “I think I like the sound of that, actually. I would be pretty awesome at it.”

“You’re not playing,” Derek said immediately.

“But there are only five of them! They’ll need us!”

“There are six of us,” Derek corrected, amused by the fact that Stiles forgot about him.

“Right, but that gives you three people per team? How’s that enough for a baseball team?”

“It’s enough for werewolves, Stiles.”

“ _God_ , I hate werewolves sometimes.”

☋ **_month one_** ☋  
“Well, this is exciting, isn’t it?” Peter said as they made their way back toward the pack hideout. Derek was still tense after seeing the Alpha pack symbol on the Hale house and he kept glancing over at Isaac, worried that he’d be suddenly snatched right from his side. Wherever Erica and Boyd might be, the chances that they wouldn’t run into the Alpha pack were slim. The chances that they would survive that run-in were slimmer still.

He scowled at his uncle. “It’s a regular circus act,” he responded dryly.

He saw Peter look over at Isaac and roll his eyes. “He’s quite the Debbie Downer, isn’t he? No wonder half his pack abandoned him. Oh wait, that was _over_ half now, wasn’t it? Scott...didn’t see that one coming, did you, Derek?”

“Would you _shut up?_ ” Derek growled.

“It was kind of a brilliant plan though, when you think about it. I’m a bit surprised that a dimwit like Scott was actually able to pull that one off. I guess it just goes to show you that anyone can surprise you these days, right Derek?” He was fishing but Derek wasn’t biting. There was no way that Peter had changed and if he thought that Derek was stupid enough to fall for it, he was as much of a dumbass as Scott.

Isaac decided to fill the silence that Derek let linger. “So what is Gerard going to turn into? A kanima?”

“Doubtful,” Peter replied. “Kanimas are created because of problems created in one’s past. And while Gerard might have those issues, the Mountain Ash has added a whole other level of fucked up. We’ll probably be dealing with something we haven’t seen before. The good doctor has effectively created a new species.” Peter couldn’t have sounded more excited about that if he had started skipping down the trail they were walking, the bastard.

“That doesn’t sound good...” Isaac offered.

“It’s not,” Derek said. “That’s why we have to find him and kill him,” he said simply.

“Of course. The Derek answer to everything. Find, maim, kill. Just like you wanted to do with Jackson...”

Derek wheeled around on Peter, eyes raging with anger. “Don’t you fucking start with me, Peter. I saw you back there - you were practically salivating at the chance to kill him! After all that bullshit you spat at me about trying to save him, you were the one that moved at the first chance you saw to kill him - so don’t even fucking give me that.”

Peter just shrugged. “I was doing what was necessary - and there’s nothing wrong with taking delight in the things that I do. Not everyone goes through life negative and sour like you, Derek. Things worked out fine, though - you even got a new baby werewolf to raise so you should be ecstatic, right? You’re three down and two up!”

Derek’s eyes narrowed so far they were practically slits, but he didn’t say anything.

“That Jackson - he’s definitely going to be a handful though. Right, Isaac?”

“Uhh...” Isaac stumbled out, looking over at Derek for confirmation about what he was supposed to do in this situation.

“You’re going to need all the help you can get to handle that one. You don’t realize it, Derek, but Jackson’s got quite a bit of the same personality as _you_ do, so you’re going to be grating each other from day one. There’s no way you’re going to know how to deal with that kind of personality. You’ll need someone like me around to show you-”

“No,” Derek said simply, cutting over him.

“You haven’t even-”

“No,” Derek said again.

“Derek, you need me in your pack,” Peter said, more roughly this time and he sounded a little less sing-songy than before.

“He wants to be in our pack?” Isaac asked incredulously. “Didn’t he try to kill all of you?”

“Yes,” Derek replied to Isaac and then he turned to Peter, “You’re not going to be in my pack, Peter. You murdered Laura, tried to get Scott to kill all his friends, you attacked Lydia and brain-fucked her - I’m _not_ letting you be in this pack.”

Peter looked at him for a long moment before turning to Isaac. “Do you really think that he cares about your well-being? You know he doesn’t trust you and he’s never going to. He expects you to trust everything he says, but won’t ever give the same in return. You’re going to just follow him blindly into oblivion?”

Isaac looked uncertainly between Derek and Peter. After a long moment he replied, “He didn’t try to murder me or my family. He didn’t ask me to murder my friends or my family, either.”

Derek was surprised by the surge of fulfilment he felt in his chest from Isaac’s words. He’d never had anyone talk about him like that - to say that they’d rather be with him, even if it was just because he was better than a skeevy murderer like his uncle. 

“I’m willing to let you stay, if you remain useful to me, but I’m not letting you in my pack. Those are my terms - take them or leave them.” Derek knew that the opening was still too wide and that Peter was going to use it to his full advantage, but he would rather have Peter close to him where he could keep an eye on him than have him running amok where he had no idea what he was up to. Some would tell him it was stupid, but it was definitely smarter to keep this enemy close to him than to set him free to his own devices.

Peter acted like he was considering it, but Derek knew what his answer was going to be. “Alright, nephew, you drive a hard bargain, but I’ll accept your supercilious terms, but only because I want us to be a family again and if this is the only way you are going to allow it, then I am going to just have to accept that.” Peter reached out his hand like he was going to touch Derek’s shoulder and Derek backed off immediately.

“Don’t _touch_ me,” he said scornfully and walked away from Peter, Isaac in tow.

☊ **_present day_** ☊  
Chris and Deaton had requested a meeting with Derek to talk to him about something so he was waiting for their arrival at the old Hale house; he chose it rather than the pack hideout just in case wayward ears happened to overhear what they would be discussing. They hadn’t met since Gerard had first gone missing, which could really only bring him to a couple of conclusions, only one of which made the most logical sense.

He waited in the living room with arms crossed over his chest, uncertain if he considered this good news or bad news. Gerard showing his face again meant trouble, but if they could get him taken care of and have one less problem to worry about, Derek would be more than relieved.

The hunter and veterinarian entered the house looking solemn but determined and Derek hoped that was a good sign. "So, what's this about?" he asked for the sake of formality.

Chris spread a map out on the nearby table and waved Derek over to it. It was of the northwestern United States and marks had been made all over it that Derek didn’t necessarily understand. He was about to ask when Chris began to explain. “We’ve been tracking Gerard as best we could since his disappearance nine months ago, as you well know. Things were looking fairly quiet and we weren’t certain that we were going to find him at all - though we knew he wasn’t dead - but then we began to hear some news stories come in from Yreka,” Chris tapped on the town that was north from Beacon Hills, hitting close to Oregon’s southern border, “about two and a half months ago that sounded promising. A number of unexplained deaths were happening within the same town, all near the general vicinity of the Klamath National Forest, which would be the perfect hideout for someone like Gerard who was probably shifting into something unexplainable and needed good shelter more often than not - so we decided to check it out.”

“And not to tell anyone else about it,” Derek said with an audible growl, glaring at the location on the map. Gerard had run fairly far; apparently he hadn’t wanted them to stumble across him - or to stumble across any of _them_ during any of his unfortunate transformations. But mostly Derek was not happy that all of this information was being given to him almost three months after the fact.

“We didn’t find that it was pertinent for your pack to be informed just yet,” Deaton said, speaking for the first time in his ever-calm manner.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Of course you didn’t. It’s not like he is a threat to _everyone_ here.”

“He might be, but he’s still _my_ father, _my_ responsibility and it is still _my_ decision what we do with him when the time comes,” Chris replied, the annoyance sitting just at the edge of his voice as he very carefully tried to keep it at bay.

“Scott made him _my_ responsibility too when he decided that I was going to be the one who bit him and help turn him into whatever freak of nature he and Deaton created,” Derek said sourly, still obviously unhappy about their secret plan. Which had not turned out quite as well as they had hoped either - he didn’t have to remind either of them though, they’d been told that already. “I know he’s your father, Argent, but you don’t just get to go on secret missions and not let the rest of us know that you’ve found the bastard. That’s bullshit. My pack has the right to know about this.”

“Your pack is half of the reason that he was here in the first place, Hale. Maybe if you hadn’t gone around biting every teenager that could wal-”

“ _Alright_ boys,” Deaton interjected with a calm voice, placing a hand on Chris’ shoulder, “how about we compare our dick sizes later and get back to the matter at hand? Besides, we all know that I’d win at that contest anyhow.” He was smirking, and that unnatural part alone was enough to get Derek to let it go and never _ever_ go down that road again if it meant that he didn’t have to see that creepy smile on Deaton’s face again.

“...Right,” Chris said, when it was clear Derek was not going to say _a damn thing_ after that bit. “So, we found him. Or we assume we did. We don’t know what he is though. It’s not anything that the Argent family has ever seen before and Deaton isn’t certain about it either.”

“Well that’s just fucking won-” Derek began, his temper rising.

“That’s not all,” Chris cut over him, which made Derek growl but he let Chris say his piece. “We believe that Gerard is coming back now. Once we left Yreka we think that Gerard noticed our presence and has decided to come back to Beacon Hills again. During our stay he was beginning to gain more control over his transformations, so it was only a matter of time before he gained enough control that it would be safe enough to travel south again.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me! How could you two just go on a fucking Gerard hunt and not tell any of us? And then get him on your scent and have him trekking right back toward us? This is fucking ridiculous!”

“Let’s not get worked up about the things we can’t change, Derek, and worry more about the things that we _can_ ,” Deaton said.

“Which is _what_ , exactly?” Derek asked sarcastically, turning toward him.

“Figuring out what Gerard is and how we can stop him before he hurts anyone else, for starters,” Deaton responded mollifyingly.

“The pack has to be told about this,” Derek said flatly. He was _not_ going to let his pack wait around to be slaughtered like a line of sitting ducks. 

“It’s not particularly prudent to inform your pack right now, Derek,” Deaton said and apparently he saw the anger rising in the werewolf’s face because he continued rather quickly, “that is not to say that we do not want you to inform a select member of the pack, however.”

He rolled his eyes. “Scott?”

“While Scott has helped us in the past, he isn’t the one that we had in mind. He’s also a little too hot-headed when it comes to Gerard - when we take Allison into consideration. He wouldn’t be a wise choice.”

“Then who-” Derek began, but it didn’t take him long to answer the question for himself after he’d begun to ask it. If it wasn’t Scott that they were after, then there was really only one other person it could be. “No,” Derek said immediately, not giving it any thought whatsoever.

“Your concern for Stiles’ well-being is admirable, Derek, but he is not quite as fragile is you might think. And whatever your reservations, he is the best suited for this; we need him,” Deaton pressed and Derek felt himself getting frustrated again.

“I _said_ ‘no.’ You’re not pressuring him into something like this again, Deaton. You’re not using that bullshit excuse that ‘he’s the only one who can’ because he’s _not_ and you know it! You’re not putting him into danger like that again!” He knew what this was about - the fucking Mountain Ash. Scott and Deaton had used pills laced with Mountain Ash to poison Gerard and whatever it had done to twist him into the shapeshifter he was, they were going to try to use Stiles to see if he could somehow control it or stop it or kill it or _something_. Derek was not going to let that happen. Boyd and Erica had been one thing - the danger hadn’t been quite as great. But this - _this_ was beyond anything anyone understood the repercussions of and he wasn’t letting Deaton use Stiles as his witchdoctor guinea pig just to see if it would actually turn out any results. He wouldn’t allow it. 

“The danger might be great, but it is technically Stiles’ decision whether he wants to partake in the possibility of it or not,” Deaton said coolly.

“I am his Alpha, it is _my_ decision to make!” Derek replied hotly, but he knew what Deaton’s reply was going to be before he even made it. He wanted to protect his pack, but he couldn’t make those decisions for them.

“It is your duty as his Alpha to tell him his options and allow him to make his own decisions. You are perfectly aware of that, Derek. I know you want to protect him - that you want to protect your entire pack because it is thriving now more than ever - but Stiles is a brilliant young man and that intelligence and intuition is something that we desperately need if we are going to stand a chance in figuring out what Gerard is and stopping him. Please don’t make this harder for everyone by being irrational.” 

Derek remained stubborn. “I’m not telling him.”

“Would you rather that we tell him?” Chris asked, a bit petulant. He softened a bit, though, and added, “Allison could tell him...”

“Fuck! Fine! Godddamnit, Deaton, don’t go creating anymore unnatural creatures while we deal with the Alpha pack _and_ Gerard, okay? Don’t you think we have enough?” he said, acting like a damn child, because truthfully he was pissed and he just wanted to say something and it was all he could come up with.

“Right. I think we’ll leave you to it, Derek. Don’t wait too long to talk to Stiles about this. We don’t know how much time we have before Gerard gets here, but we’ll keep an eye out for him until you do.”

Derek sighed and nodded. “Thanks,” he said in a defeated tone and he did mean it, but he also realized just how much more difficult things were going to get now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the last scene, Chris pulled out a map and referred to some locations on it. All of them are real places with the exception of Beacon Hills, of course:
> 
> * In this story, the location of Beacon Hills is directly due east of [Blocksburg, CA](https://maps.google.com/maps?q=Blocksburg,+CA&hl=en&ll=40.276383,-123.634644&spn=0.268219,0.616608&sll=33.441418,-94.09387&sspn=0.146681,0.308304&oq=blocks&hnear=Blocksburg,+Humboldt,+California&t=m&z=11), on the eastern edge of the Yollo-Bolly-Middle Eel Wilderness Area.  
> 
> * [Yollo-Bolly-Middle Eel Wilderness Area](https://maps.google.com/maps?q=Yollo-Bolly-Middle+Eel+Wilderness+Area,+CA&hl=en&ll=40.229218,-123.092194&spn=0.536812,1.233215&sll=40.104336,-122.950745&sspn=0.537801,1.233215&oq=yollo-&hq=Yollo-Bolly-Middle+Eel+Wilderness+Area,+CA&t=m&z=10) is south of Trinity National Forest and north of Mendocino National Forest. It is within the boundaries of both forests and this will be the nearby forested area referred to in the story (Stiles went into it in the first chapter).  
> 
> * Beacon Hills is also a bit northwest of [Red Bluff, CA](https://maps.google.com/maps?q=Red+Bluff,+CA&hl=en&ll=40.225024,-122.711792&spn=0.536845,1.233215&sll=40.276383,-123.634644&sspn=0.268219,0.616608&oq=red+blu&hnear=Red+Bluff,+Tehama,+California&t=m&z=10), if that helps you locate it easier.

**Author's Note:**

> Here is a description of the symbols that are going to be used in this story - so you can get an idea as to why they are there. They are basically to help the reader with time-flow, but they have suggestive qualities to them as well, if you can’t tell from the following:
>
>> The **Nodes of the Moon** represent points of personal karmic imbalance. The **South Node ☋** represents habit patterns from childhood or from past lives. These are comfortable patterns, but they often get in the way of you having the kinds of connections you want with other people. _Other meanings:_ What you already know, past karma
>
>> The **North Node ☊** represent circumstances and activities that usually feel unfamiliar. It’s the “secret shadow” of the South Node sign, and it’s the key to getting that craving met. That’s why the North node reveals an area of massive growth potential in your life. It’s the key to getting energy flowing. _Other meanings:_ Destiny, growing towards, future potential, connections
> 
> The title (and really the reason I decided I was definitely going to write this) is inspired by St. Lucia's _Closer Than This_. The whole album is great and is what I wrote to the entire time.
> 
> I blame [abluecanarylite](http://archiveofourown.org/users/abluecanarylite) for this because she should be blamed. She got me into this fandom in the first place & I shouldn't even be here (do you even go to this school?). On a more constructive note, she was insanely helpful with getting all of this put together, reading over it for me and telling me when and where I was going off track, so thank you, love. <3


End file.
